


Take Me Back

by our_lives_are_tragic



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, I'm a sucker for happy endings, Like so much angst, My poor babies, Romance, Why must I make them hurt, angst and then (probably) happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:44:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 50,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5821894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/our_lives_are_tragic/pseuds/our_lives_are_tragic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can do everything right and no one will notice, but the moment you make a mistake the whole world is at your throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“Hi…” I say in a voice so timid and afraid, I'm ashamed to have even spoken at all. She turns to me in surprise, disbelief painting her beautiful face. Her green eyes dart to different parts of my body, trying to make sure it's really me. Her eyes light and open, walls all down. She looks happy to see me for the moment and my heart does that thing that only she can make it do. I don't react though, because I know her, better yet, I know how she gets when you hurt her and god did I hurt her. I don't want to break the momentary relief and surprise that's impeding the actual reaction she is sure to have, but I know I have to. I hurt her when I promised I wouldn't and I deserve whatever is coming to me. 

“You dyed your hair… It looks really good.” I know my nonchalance will break her out of her dazed stupor and set her off, which is exactly why I said it, instead of the million I'm sorrys that I've wanted to say since I did something that required an apology. I can see the exact moment she shuts me out, the moment her walls all come up to keep me out, and that hurts more than any pain I've ever felt in my life because I used to have my own fucking door. Her eyes turn to ice, face to stone, and she speaks to me with the voice she normally uses to scare people away. The “I‘m scary and you're weak so walk away” voice. She used it on me the moment I met her, but I wasn't weak and she didn't scare me, so I didn't walk away. At least, until I did. 

“Yeah. It's black, kind of like your soul. Now get out.” She says to me in a voice that isn’t quite yelling, but makes you wish it was. 

“Lauren…” I sigh, shoulders dropping. She holds her hand up commandingly to silence me. 

“No. Don't Lauren me. Get out. Do what you’re good at doing, Camila.” 

Well that one stung. I deserved it, but that doesn't make it hurt any less. I'm not a runner, but I ran. I don't hurt people, but I hurt her. 

I take a deep breath to regain some semblance of composure and daringly take a tentative step towards her. Lauren automatically stiffens and takes a step back, taking a defensive stance by crossing her arms across her chest. Great, now she's really shutting me out. 

“Laur please… just please let me explain myself. I know I hurt you and I deserve your anger, but please just let me explain.” I practically beg. I need her to just let me explain, I messed up, but god do I love her. I just want another chance to show her that I love her. I see her eyes soften for the quickest of moments before, all too quickly, they harden once again and she levels me with her all too familiar glare. I resist the urge to flinch, forcing myself to remain strong, she doesn't scare me. The anger is all to cover how sensitive and just completely loving she is, it’s to protect herself. What comes next though, that makes me rethink my earlier thought about pain. This is the most painful thing I've ever felt. 

“Fuck no. You left. All on your own. Do us both a favor and just stay gone. We should have never been together in first place…” She takes a frustrated breath and runs her hand through her hair angrily, “I told you that in the beginning. That it wouldn't work and that you’d probably get hurt. Except the fucking plot twist is, I didn't hurt you. It was the other way around. Jokes on me huh?”

All the color drains from my face and I finally understand what all those characters in books mean when they say their blood runs cold. No. I made a mistake, I know that I did, but I can't lose her. You can't just lose the love of your life because of a momentary act of weakness. Please no. 

“Please…” My eyes fill with tears when I see no sign of hesitation in her expression, it looks like I've actually lost her. 

In an action quicker than I can even comprehend, she pushes me out the door and in the hardest tone I've ever heard her speak in, she says the two words that will echo in my mind, completely consume me, until I can be blessed enough to hear her voice again. 

“Get. Out.”


	2. Chapter 1

then:

“Dammit dammit dammit…” I mutter as I speed walk into the psych building, side burning from the unexpected extra exertion. I head down the corridor and groan when I see the door to the lecture hall closed, reminding me that I am indeed late. 

I stop for a moment in front of the door and run my hands through my hair in a half assed attempt to tame it. Or maybe to stall. Nah, to tame it. “Jesus christ I need pizza” I mutter out, taking a deep breath to try to stop sounding like a beached whale. 

I grasp the cold door handle in my clammy hand and push the door open, grimacing when the professor stops talking mid sentence and the whole class turns to stare at me. Great. 

“Ah Ms. Cabello, nice of you to grace us with your presence” Dr. Muller’s dry and sarcastic voice rings out. “I do not appreciate being interrupted, so I highly recommend you quickly take a seat and refrain from interrupting me again.” 

I flash him an embarrassed smile and mutter a quick apology before scanning the seemingly full lecture hall for an empty desk. I swallow nervously when I see none, but then almost squeal in joy when I spot an empty one with a bag placed on in. I glance up at the girl sitting next to it and almost gasp at her stunning side profile. 

Shit. This girl is beyond beautiful. She's dressed in ripped grey skinny jeans and a black bomber jacket, beanie sexily placed on top of her brown locks. I scan my eyes up and down her before I shake my head at myself and quickly make my way towards her. Weaving my way through the rows, almost tripping twice, I finally arrive at the free- but not free- desk and quietly clear my throat to get her attention. 

Her eyes snap up to meet mine and I almost ask if she's wearing contacts or something because god they’re so green. 

Her thick eyebrows rise up for a moment before she levels me with the downright scariest glare I've seen in my twenty years of life. My first instinct is to take a step back, but then I decide that, no, she's beautiful and that beauty is pretty intimidating. But I'm not afraid of her. So I instead flash her a big smile before speaking. 

“Hi. I was wondering if you would mind moving your bag so I could sit here? Please.” I say as friendly as I can, while still maintaining a hushed tone. 

Green eyes widen in disbelief, probably taken aback that I'm still standing in front of her and not halfway to mexico. She quickly composes herself though and with a roll of her downright impossible eyes, she snatches her bag off of the table next to her and places it on the floor by her feet, grumpily I might add. 

Hm. Combat boots. Scary.

I smile triumphantly, and mutter out a quick thanks, before taking my seat. I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, and reach down to pull out my notebook and pen, tuning in to what professor sarcasm is saying. 

“To elaborate, determining what drives people to terrorism is no easy task, despite contrary belief. One does not simply wake up one day and decide they're going to kill seemingly innocent people,” Dr. Muller say’s, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against his desk. “For one thing, terrorists aren't likely to volunteer as experimental subjects, and examining their activities from afar can lead to erroneous conclusions. What's more, one group's terrorist is another group's freedom fighter, as the millions of Arabs who support Palestinian suicide bombers will attest.”

He gets up and walks around his desk, grabbing a marker and writing two words in the sloppy writing that only teachers and doctors can achieve. 

Terrorists, pathological? 

My eyebrows raise, interest piqued. He caps his marker and proceeds to walk around the room as he continues. 

“For years, psychologists have examined terrorists' individual characteristics, mining for clues that could explain their willingness to engage in violence. Researchers now agree that most terrorists are not "pathological" in any traditional sense. The conclusion that was drawn was that people who are more open to terrorist recruitment and radicalization tend to feel angry, alienated or disenfranchised. Or they believe that their current political involvement does not give them the power to effect real change and they feel the need to take action rather than just talking about the problem.” 

I hear an annoyed huff and turn to see that green eyes, as I affectionately dub her in my mind, is glaring up at the professor, arms crossed over her chest. I smile slightly in amusement, I love when people are passionate enough to get pissed off about a topic they disagree with. 

“Many simply believe that engaging in violence against the state is not immoral and in that sense, can terrorists really be blamed fo-”

“Are you kidding me? It is no one's right to decide another cannot live. I don't understand the need for violence, the lack of empathy, the senselessness. Not a single one of us has the right to overpower and opress for war, greed, money, power… selfishness. What the fuck is all that going to do?” Green eyes angrily interrupts Dr. Muller. Voice loud and commanding, I notice she doesn’t simply speak with her voice, she does it with her whole body. 

“Ms. Jauregui-” His scandalized voice rings out, trying to regain control, but green eyes doesn't let him. 

“It's disastrous when we put into those things. Every single time we do and have done it in the course of time it is disastrous, painful…” She pulls off her beanie and flips her hair to the other side before putting it back on, all while continuing to rant passionately. I think I'm in love. “We commemorate war in history classrooms as tragic mistakes and we keep resorting to these things. When we glorify and act on those things and when we numb ourselves to the world around us with distractions, we lose sense of the reality of what it means to end a life. To, for a moment, believe that you have the right to take the breath you do not breathe and that you did not give. We cannot end lives. We cannot take away a sister, brother, friend, child, parent, grandparent, neighbor, person walking down the street, fucking human being-”

“Lauren Jauregui, that is enough-”

“No! You think that terrorists can't really be blamed for crashing a fucking plane into a building full of people or-or taking open fire on people walking the streets? We cannot displace them with violence and harm them! For what fucking reason?! To degrade them? For what reason? When people have to protest in the damn streets, pleading for someone not to murder innocent human beings, when people have to do that, we know we have failed at humanity. When are we not going to have to be babied into knowing what is right and wrong and stop apologizing only after the damage is done. We are all human. We are all the same. We need to wake up to each other. Now.” 

Holy shit. Her chest heaves from how worked up she is and Dr. Muller’s face is completely red. The whole classroom is deathly silent and all eyes are bouncing from Lauren to the professor. Watching. Waiting. Not me though. My eyes are glued to her. They've been glued onto her since she first spoke up. The eloquence, intelligence and just pure passion she spoke with, that isn't something you see from many people. 

Dr. Muller takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down, before glancing at his watch and deflating a little bit. 

“It seems our time is up. Now Ms. Jauregui, I highly advise you check yourself and remember who the teacher is here. I admire passion, but the next time you dare to speak to me like that, I will personally make sure you are kicked out of the psychology program. You may all go.” His voice shakes in thinly veiled anger and then he turns and walks out of the lecture hall, not once looking back. 

The room is quiet for a moment before someone starts packing up and that prompts everyone else to follow in their example. Except for Lauren and I, that is. I glance at her and see her with her eyes closed and head tilted up to the ceiling, obviously upset. I hesitantly get up and start to shove my unused notebook back into my bag, but hesitate before making another move. I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth in contemplation for a moment before impulsively deciding to talk to her. 

“Um are you okay?” I hesitantly get out. Standing near her desk. Lauren opens her eyes and turns her attention to me, fierce glare dominating her otherwise angelic features. I raise my eyebrows, maintaining eye contact. When I see she isn't going to say anything, I decide to continue. “I thought what you had to say was amazing. It was thought out and eloquently spoken and just completely had me enraptured.” 

Lauren’s glare softens for a moment, but then she looks down and gets to her feet to start packing up her stuff. I think she's just going to disregard what I said, but I hear her speak up a moment later. 

“Yeah well, he obviously didn't think so. That fucking dick.” She snarkily says, I smile in amusement at her cursing. 

“I'm sure he was just jealous that your speech was way more compelling than all his lectures put together. Could've probably done without the cursing though.” Lauren straightens up and turns to me, the corner of her lips tugging upward at my remark. She narrows her eyes at me for a moment, studying me, before dryly replying. 

“I'll keep that in mind for next time.” 

I grin, discreetly checking her out now that she's standing and my smile widens when I notice she has a good couple of inches on me. I've always like taller girls. “Just make sure you save your speeches for when I'm here so I can have a front row seat to them. I have a thing for passion and intelligence, but sadly people usually have one, but lack the other.” 

Any amusement in her expression seems to wipe clean at my words, and the scary glare is back. Did I say something wrong? 

She hums once before speaking, “well, I have another class in a while so…” she trails off before turning on her heel and sauntering towards the door. And just like Dr. Muller, she doesn't look back once. 

~ 

Now:

I groan and put my head in my hands, forcing the memory of our first meeting out of my mind. I was a goner from the first moment I laid my eyes on her, almost a year ago. I smile a little bit when I remember how passionately she spoke that day, I always did have a thing for passion and intelligence. 

The smile quickly disappears from my face when I remember how she kicked me out of her dorm room earlier, completely angered by my presence. I rub my face tiredly and then bring my feet up onto my twin bed to wrap my arms around my legs and rest my chin onto my knees. I depressingly look around at my pitifully barren room. Feeling both happy and sad that I've been granted a single this term. Happy because I don't have to worry about sharing the space, sad because the only reason I even pushed to get one was so Lauren and I wouldn't ever have to worry about being interrupted. 

I can't believe how terribly I fucked this up. The last words she said to me have been repeating in my mind since earlier and it is down right torture. 

Get. Out. 

The tears run down my face, my body wracking from the sobs I'm desperately trying to repress. I never thought I'd see that glare again, not after I got to experience how it feels to be loved by her. 

If I concentrate hard enough I can still hear the sound of her laughter, or feel it while her head is tucked into the space between my shoulder and jaw. I know I should be out there, begging for her back, pleading for another chance. But right now all I can do is curl tighter into myself and cry and replay her angered words over and over in my mind. I can beg tomorrow. Today I need to lick my wounds. 

Except the fucking plot twist is, I didn't hurt you. It was the other way around. Jokes on me huh?

No Lauren, the jokes on me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prologue was super short so I decided to just go ahead and post chapter 1. I am trash. Hope you guys like it! If not lie to me because I am a sensitive nugget.


	3. Chapter 2

Now:

 

I take a deep breath, trying to build up the courage to knock. I know the chances that she'll even open it are very slim, but just the small chance that she does and lets me talk, is enough for me to stay and check. My heart does that thing where it can't decide whether it wants to stop or speed up. I bet Lauren wants it to stop. I consider going to buy her flowers or chocolates or something, but then decide that no, she shouldn't be bought. She likes a single flower more than a bouquet anyway.

I groan when I realize that I'm stalling and with a shaky hand, I knock four solid times before taking a step back and waiting. 

And wait. 

And wait some more. 

After a good 15 minutes of simply staring at her door, I step up once I come to the conclusion that staring at her door is definitely not productive and knocking again is probably a much better idea. Upon coming closer I hear soft music playing in the background. I can't make out the song, but I know music is playing. I firmly knock yet again, but still nothing. 

“Lauren…?” I shakily say out loud and not even a second later, the music's volume gets raised and I can finally make out the lyrics. Tears immediately fill my eyes when I hear the lyrics she obviously wanted me to listen to. 

Oh, I wanted words but all I heard was nothing

 

Ohh, sometimes love's intoxicating  
Ohh, you're coming down, your hands are shaking  
When you realize there's no one waiting

The music then gets lowered back down to its previous volume and a sob wracks my body, her message definitely received. Despite the fact that I can't see through the tears clouding my vision, I step up to the door and speak. 

“You may not be waiting Laur, but I am.” I wait for a moment, hoping for some sign of a response, but.

All I heard was nothing. 

~

This continues for a week and a half. Me going and knocking on her door, only for her to completely ignore my existence. Sometimes I speak through the door to her, apologizing, pleading. Sometimes I just tell her stories. Like how I rolled off of my bed the other day because I completely forgot how small these mattresses were, and how that proves that rolling over in bed counts as exercise and therefore I should not have to do it anymore. I could've sworn I heard a snort, but she still didn't respond. 

I promised myself I'd give her all the time she needed, but this is getting ridiculous. She could at least let me talk. We're adults for fucks sake! We shouldn't just give one another the silent treatment. 

I've thoroughly worked myself up by this point, which prompts me to be a little different in this visit to her door. By kind of, sort of, pounding on it, and yelling. Just a little bit though. 

 

“Lauren! Open up! Please! I just want to talk…” I yell through the door that is in between me and the girl who drives me crazy in every way imaginable. God I used to always say to myself that I'd never be the person that would get crazy over someone, but since the fucking beginning I've been losing my mind trying to stay on hers.

I sigh, resting my forehead onto the cool wood of the door, you can hear the exhaustion in my voice and I hope she doesn't think it's because i'm getting annoyed or something. I just didn't sleep last night. Going insane really takes a lot out of you. I squeeze my eyes shut and decide to just continue to plead for her to just let me talk. 

“I know I fucked up. I know better than anyone and I am so sorry, but please just let me explain. Let me give you my side of things. My reasoning. I just- I just want to talk…” 

The door abruptly opens as soon as that last word comes out of my mouth and reveals a gorgeously furious Lauren. Fuck. Black jeans, her The 1975 shirt that I bought her when we saw them live and her leather jacket. God I've always loved that outfit on her. Her voice breaks me out of my admiration and my eyes snap back up to her galaxial pools of magic and anger. Here comes round two of crushing Camila’s hopes and dreams. I gulp in fear, but force myself to maintain eye contact. Her scary voice is honestly starting to scare the crap out of me right now though. 

“You want to talk!?,” Her raspier than normal voice speaks up, did she start smoking or something, because it definitely wasn't that raspy before. I would've noticed… “you want me to just let you talk? What about me? What about all those times I called you? Left you voicemails? Texted you?? I fucking emailed you Camila, for fucks sake. I made myself crazy trying to get ahold of you. You didn't let me talk so why the hell should I give you the fucking courtesy you didn't give me?” Her voice is the definition of seething and suddenly I can't remember all of the well thought out explanations and heartfelt apologies I was planning on saying when she let me see her again. At this point I just don't know what to say to make this better. I just want to make this better. 

I open and close my mouth like a fish and at my hesitation Lauren rolls her eyes and starts to close the door, but it seems to snap me out of my silence and I shoot my hand out at the last minute. On the bright side, I stopped the door from being closed. On the not so bright side, I stopped the door from being closed with my hand. In the door. Like painfully. 

A yelp of pain leaves my mouth and tears immediately spring to my eyes. I hear a gasp and the door is quickly opened as I yank my hand back to clutch safely against my body. 

“Fuck fuck fuck! God fucking dammit! Owwie… oh my god!” I yell out, shaking my hand to try and get rid of the painful throbbing. I faintly hear Lauren's frantic voice and then feel hands on me. Wait hands?

“Oh my god Camz I am so sorry, I swear I didn't mean to hurt you! I didn’t think you’d try to stop me from closing it. Shit. Fuck. Lemme see it.” Lauren tries to pry my hand carefully from my other hand to look at it, but I just whimper in pain again. As much as I'd love to enjoy the fact that she's talking to me without the all consuming rage, it really fucking hurts. 

Think of pizza Camila. Or Lauren’s eyes. Oh wait, you can just look at her eyes. Okay that works. 

I tune back into what's happening outside of the pain and, crap she's talking. 

“Can I please see your hand? I just want to make sure it's not broken. I promise I'll be gentle…” Lauren's voice rings out, much quieter this time, eyes softer than I've seen them in months. She looks really worried and guilty, it sort of makes the pain worth it, just having her look at me like I matter to her. Fuck I miss her. 

I find myself nodding and then I slowly release my hand from how I was clutching it and Lauren then takes it oh so softly within her own. I wince in pain, but then, her hands are so soft. Ugh. 

Lauren slowly manipulates my fingers, checking the dexterity and winces when I wince, as if my pain is her own. I look down and see bruises starting to form around my knuckles, the skin already swollen. 

Laurens eyes narrow, face looking absolutely stricken and it breaks my heart. I don't want her sad, it was my fault anyway. I shouldn't have tried to stop her from closing the door. I open my mouth to tell her just this, but she beats me to it. 

“Can you move your fingers?” She says quietly, eyes sad, slightly pouting. Oh god no, don't pout. Only I can pout. I can't handle it when she pouts. I immediately try to flex my fingers, and other than the immense throbbing going on, I can move them, which yay! 

I try to swallow another whimper of pain and just nod that yes, movement is definitely a thing that I am still capable of. Camila:1 Door:0. Take that Mr. Door. 

I hear her sigh and I look up to see her looking at the floor, she then releases my hand and takes a step back. “I am so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to do that. You know I'd never intentionally hurt you like that. I didn't see your hand, I'm so sorry Camila…” 

Her voice sounds so strained and just guilty and I find myself shaking my head fanatically to stop her right there. Nope, no apologizing to me. I'm the one that should be apologizing. 

“Hey no, it's okay. I know you didn't mean to. Really. It was my fault. I should've known that in the battle of me against door, door would win. I shouldn't have reached out like that, it was just reflex you know? I just couldn't let you shut me out. So don't you dare feel bad. This is all on me.” I strictly say, trying to maintain eye contact, but she won't bring her eyes up from the floor. She slowly starts to nod, mumbling out another sorry, before running her hand through her hair and starting to slowly back up towards her room. 

I reflexively reach out to grasp her wrist in my hand, to keep her here, but my hand throbs in protest, causing me to retract it. I instead decided to use my words because actions are obviously not getting me anywhere. 

“Noooo please don't go. Please Lauren. Can't we just talk? Can you just talk to me?” I say, voice strained. 

Laurens eyes stay glued to the ground for a moment before she squeezes them shut and simply shakes her head at me. 

“Why not?” I squeak out, trapping my bottom lip between my teeth when it starts trembling. 

“Camila…” she sighs out, finally looking up at me. I wonder if I can make a wish on the stars in her eyes, but then all I'd really wish for is her. “I know you just want to talk, okay? I just can't talk to you. I can't even look at you. It hurts too much…” 

She's finally given me a full sentence, and suddenly I miss the silence. I forgot that words hurt. 

“Looking away from you hurts, Lauren.” I honestly say. Hoping for something I'm pretty sure she won’t give me. At least not now. 

Green eyes connect with mine, and she flashes me the smallest of smiles, but it makes me feel too big for my body. “It hurts me too, but at least when I’m not looking at you, I can pretend you didn't break my heart.” 

And with that she's walking inside her door and then slowly, cautiously closing it behind her. 

The soft click of it shutting makes me long for the harsh thud of it slamming on my hand. 

At least that one hurt less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 3

Then:

“Hey!” I confidently yell out, making Lauren stop and turn around to check if the crazy person yelling is talking to her. Once she sees me, I see her eyebrows shoot up in curiosity, then eyes narrow in suspicion. No surprise there. I flash a grin and speed up my pace slightly to catch up to her, making sure to look as friendly as I possibly can. Ever since that last psychology lecture, I haven't been able to get the girl with the passionate voice and mean glare off of my mind. I can't seem to shake the thought of her. I'd be lying if I said I actually wanted to though. There's just something about her that already has me hooked. Maybe it's the fact that it's so obvious that she has walls built up around her. Or the fact that behind that glare of hers, she looks sad and lonely. 

Sad. I seem to be drawn to sad people. The ones that let themselves feel. Let themselves be aware of everything. She's so painfully real that I just want to experience her in every sense of the word. 

Crap. Calm down Camila. You only know her name and the fact that injustice pisses her off. 

I mentally scold myself, finally catching up to Lauren. I ignore her glare and decide to act like I’m completely oblivious to the fact that I know that she is trying to make it seem like she wants me to leave. At least, I hope she just wants it to seem that way. 

“Hi Lauren! How are you?” I brightly say, hoping to get her to warm up to me. Being nice usually works. 

I see a flicker of confusion flash across her just unfair face before she recovers and slaps that damn glare back on. Man, this getting her to like me thing is gonna be harder than I thought. 

“Really?” she asks me in a frustrated voice, “how am I? That's why you stopped me?” 

She crosses her leather jacket clad arms across her chest defensively and stares me down. I almost get lost in those amazing eyes, but I manage to stay strong and respond. Even though I'm about ninety percent sure, that was a rhetorical question. Oh well. 

“Yeah? That's what people do. They ask one another how they're doing.” I slowly say, an amused smile on my face.

“Although,” I continue, “usually people just ask so they can talk about themselves. You know, patiently - yet impatiently - wait for the other person to stop talking so that they can tell them all about what's been happening with them. Just for the record, I actually want to know.”

I bite my lower lip once I realize I may have went a little overboard with my answer. I tend to over explain and get passionate and enthusiastic about little things. Which usually results in people getting annoyed. Oops. 

I sheepishly look up at Lauren and notice her jaw slightly dropped, and eyes flashing with pure disbelief. Well, at least she's not shooting me with her angry lazer beams or awkwardly trying to escape. I'll call it a win. 

“What?” I ask, confused as to why she looks genuinely surprised. I just asked how she was? 

Lauren instantly narrows her eyes at me once again at the sound of my voice. Although, this time it isn't an angry look. It looks like she's trying to figure me out. It also seems like she can't. Well, at least she knows how I feel, since I can't seem to figure her out either. Payback is fun. 

I smile, “cat got your tongue?” Amusement fills her eyes and I mentally fist pump. Two points for Camila. 

“Oh god. That's so lame. Who actually says that anymore?” She asks me. Trying to look annoyed, but I swear I see a trace of endearment in her eyes. I'm totally wearing her down. 

“Hey, don't be mean,” I pout, “the cliches are cliche for a reason. They’re classics. But seriously, is it weird that I asked how you are? Because of all the things I say, I'm like ninety seven percent sure, ‘how are you’ isn't the weirdest…” I tease, running a hand through my hair when a lock of it decided to be a meanie and fall in my face. Rude. 

Lauren opens her mouth slightly as if to speak, but then seems to change her mind and closes it again. She looks at me hesitantly, and might I add, freaking adorably. 

I gaze out at the courtyard for a moment so I can give her a minute to formulate words, and smile when I see a really tall guy chasing a short girl around. Cute. 

“It's just. Uh... “ Lauren's voice brings my attention back to her. Her voice timid, a shocking contrast to her usual assertive one. I raise my eyebrows when she trails off, silently prompting her to go on. 

“No one ever really asks me that. You were right when you said that people usually just ask so they can talk about themselves. None of them actually wanted to know the answer.” She looks down shyly and, oh my god. My heart. It's breaking. Nope. No sad Lauren today. Not while I'm here. 

I tilt my head down to try to catch her eyes and softly respond. 

“Well, I really want to know. Those lame people don't deserve to know anyway.”

A small smirk pulls at her lips as she finally lifts her head. 

“So you're saying that you're not lame?” 

I giggle, putting a hand to my chest in mock offense. “Of course I'm lame. Just a good kind of lame.” 

“As opposed to those bad lame people.” She quips back. 

“Yes! Those bad lame people are a real menace to society.” I say very seriously, hoping she'll play along. Thankfully Lauren catches on immediately. 

“Ah yes, I hear they're wreaking havoc on the poor unsuspecting public.” 

I lean in to whisper. “Between you and me, I think they're starting to suspect.” My eyes widen and Lauren mock gasps, widening her eyes comically. 

“I think you're right.” Realization coloring her raspy voice. 

We look at eachother for a beat, before we burst out into laughter. Jesus Christ, I think I'm in love with this girl, and I don't even know her age. 

Lauren attractively runs her hand through her hair, flipping it over to the other side, before flashing me a small smile, emerald eyes shining so beautifully. The sight stuns me so much that I need a moment to catch my breath. Who even is this girl and who gave her the right to be this attractive? 

“So, where are you off to?” I ask her, shifting from foot to foot nervously. 

Lauren nods her head to the left, signalling me to head that way with her, before speaking. 

“I have a meeting with my advisor in like, half an hour. She probably wants to chew me out for pissing off professor jackass the other day.” She says, rolling her captivating eyes. I swear, this is the kind of girl writers obsess over. The kind of girl people write poetry about. A quote pops into my mind every time she connects her gaze with mine. Right now it's, at the touch of love everyone becomes a poet. Damn you Plato. 

I look up, and am disappointed to see us approaching the administrative building. I pout for a moment, before remembering that I haven't responded yet. I turn back to Lauren, and am surprised to find her quickly turning her head away from me, but I can definitely spot a light blush dusting her cheeks. Did I do something? I shake it off, and just decide to keep the conversation going. It's obvious that it's not everyday she refrains from using her scary glare and actually talks. 

“Let me guess, you don't regret going off on him though?” I teasingly ask, despite already knowing the answer. 

I can hear the smirk in her voice when she answers, and my heart actually studders. I'm so weak. 

“Of course I don't. The schooling system doesn't want you to have an opinion that's different from theirs, and then they deal out consequences when you prove that you do. School isn't about learning and building and forming thoughts. It's about memorization and repetition, and I won't stand for it.” She passionately says. 

I find myself nodding frantically in agreement. “Yes! The ones that are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are usually the ones that do.” 

She abruptly halts in her step and then pensively stares at me, thoroughly surprised. I seem to surprise her a lot.

“Yeah…” Lauren whispers out, shaking her head from side to side incredulously. She's looking at me like I matter and it's honestly the best feeling in the world. People usually just see the goofy and clumsy girl, and immediately write me off as annoying, but Lauren is actually listening to me. Not just hearing me speak. I absolutely need to see more of this girl. With a burst of confidence, I decide to surprise her once again. 

“Would you like to get coffee or something with me sometime? We can badmouth the schooling system some more and then plot our revenge together.”

I bite my lip and intently study her reaction. Hope flows through me when I see genuine surprise and a hint of a smile, but then like someone flips a switch, her expression changes. Oh no. I imagine walls shooting up and surrounding her and then her scary glare is back. Hello, long time no see. 

I brace myself for her response, because I'm pretty sure I know what it'll be. 

“No thanks.” she coldly says. And. Ouch. My heart starts to fold in on itself and attempt to hide away from the meanness in this world. But then I swear I see a touch of sadness in her eyes. This rejection doesn’t feel genuine. 

Before I could speak though, she starts talking again in her emotionless voice. Which really tells me that her rejection isn't genuine, she's very passionate when she's sure about something. And now her words just sound… rehearsed. 

“Listen, I'm going to be late for my appointment. Bye Camila.” She says in her clipped tone, before turning around and starting to walk into the administrative building that I was too distracted to notice we had arrived to. Well. Dismissal hurts. I resolve to not let it discourage me though. If it was easy, it wouldn't be worth it.

I turn around to walk back towards the center of campus, so I can go to the library, and instantly smile when I see the small girl on the tall guys back. They're both laughing their heads off and, yeah. Some things are just worth the extra effort. 

Now:

If there are a few things that I've missed terribly over the summer I spent away from school, number one would be Lauren of course, and two would be Slow Sip Abyss. My favorite coffee shop in the whole entire world. I don't even need to travel the whole entire world to know that it's my favorite. It just is. 

I smile when I think about all the times I brought her here. The main thing that drew me in, was the unique name and then the fact that this place is entirely hidden. It's just outside of campus, hidden between two very big and popular stores. I love things that hide, yet shine none-the-less. I think about the way Lauren's face completely lit up the first time I brought her here. I feel my heart sinking, and quickly banish that memory before I could burst into tears. I let the quiet and soothing atmosphere wash over me, and immediately a great deal of stress evaporates from my body. I have two homes, this place and Lauren's arms. Since I can't have the one I really want, I might as well take the other. 

I start to walk towards the bookshelf full of worn and tattered books that they let you borrow, and hear Let It Go by James Bay spill from the speakers. I get a strange urge to look up and immediately see the girl that consumes my every thought walk in, eyes glued to the camera in her hands. Well shit, fuck you universe, I do not appreciate the rude message you're trying to send me. 

I gulp in fear and quickly decide to change course and get in line right behind her. Her eyes stay glued to her camera and for the moment I'm able to simply admire her beauty. It's been way too long. I love everything about her, and I have never missed someone so much in my entire life. 

I quietly sigh to myself when I see the line getting shorter to order, my time of definitely not creepy stalking, sadly coming to an end. I bite my lip in hesitation, and just decide to speak up. Maybe the public environment will stop her from dunking me in boiling hot coffee. 

“Hey.” I kindly say, and see her head shoot up from her beloved camera. She's always loved that thing. That little hipster. 

“Camz!” Lauren says, turning to me and immediately getting that adorable little crease in between her full eyebrows. As much as I find it cute, I feel a pang of pain shoot through me, knowing that she wishes she hadn’t run into me. A second later though, I register the fact that she called me Camz. I haven't heard that nickname in months. Hope flows through me, but I quickly stomp it down before I can get ahead of myself. Everyone knows how good I am at doing that. 

“How are you?” I quietly ask, flashing her a small smile. Quickly though, I see deep rooted sadness flood her expressive eyes, and I look at her in confusion. 

“Um…” She mutters out, turning her gaze to the floor, and the moment of uncharacteristic shyness sparks a memory in my mind. An important memory. Oh. 

I sigh once I realize she's thinking about the same day as well. 

“I still really want to know, Lauren.” I softly say, afraid to set her off. I always want to know, is what I don't say. 

Lauren shoots her gaze back up to me, and she looks so vulnerable I just want to wrap her up in my arms and protect her from the world. I've always wanted to protect her from the world. Yet now, she wraps herself up and protects herself from me. Funny how things change. 

I take a tentative step foward, and slowly reach my hand out to grasp hers, almost crying out in relief when she doesn't instantly pull it away. She maintains eye contact with me, and I try to tell her all the things she won't let me say out loud in this one look. I see her tense shoulders relax, and I start to move closer, when the moment is broken by a loud voice. 

“Next!” The barista calls out, and all at once our bubble is popped. 

I glare at the barista, and refrain from getting mad at her for popping my bubble. Dammit, I loved that bubble. 

I'm quickly snap out of my idiotic internal debate when I feel Lauren rip her hand from my hold. I turn around in surprise to find her shaking her head from side to side, turning around and walking towards the door. 

I swiftly call out to her before she can exit. 

“Wait! Lauren? Where are you going?” I question her, disappointment leaking into my tone. 

She stops and I can hear her sigh loudly, before responding in an exasperated tone. 

“I uh just remembered, I have to study for a really important quiz…” She terribly lies. 

“C’mon Lo... Can't we just sit and talk? We can talk about anything you want. Just please, stay?” I practically beg. 

She turns to me with fire in her eyes, and I instantly wince at the upcoming verbal lashing I'm about to receive. 

“I remember asking you to stay. In fact, if I remember correctly, you pretended like you didn't know me, and then left for the summer, cutting off all contact with me.” She coldly says. 

My shoulders drop in shame and my eyes fill with tears. I did do that, but if she would just let me explain, I know we can work this out. I love her. 

“I - I know. I know, but my mo-” I try to stammer out an explanation, but she quickly cuts me off. 

“No. I don't want to hear it Camila.” Her voice holds so much anger, it honestly scares me a little.   
I instinctively flinch at her tone, and take a step back. Lauren sees this, and her eyes soften a little bit. She bites her lip and aggressively runs her hand through her hair. I still love that. 

“Listen,” she starts, voice much softer than before. “I'm just not ready to hear it yet. You're hurting me, and I need it to not hurt.” 

I pitifully look at her, and know that I shouldn't push her. She doesn't want to hear it, and I should respect that. At least for now. 

“Okay,” I quietly say, voice full of sorrow. “but at least get your coffee? I know how much you need it to study.” I say, flashing her a timid smile.

Lauren slightly returns it, but turns around and notices that the barista has placed the be back in 5 sign on the counter. 

“Oh well,” she shrugs, “I'll get one another time. Bye Camila.” 

She rushes out the door before I can even think of responding. 

With a depressingly pitiful whimper, I head towards the bookshelf again. I run my hand across a few of the loved books and decide to randomly pull one out. I look at the cover and notice it's a complication of famous poetry and quotes. Opening it up to a random page, I get an idea when I read the first quote that catches my eye. I remember that quote. 

I shoot a quick glance at the counter and notice the bubble popper barista has returned. Hm. Well, I did say agree I’d refrain from trying to explain. Nothing about being sneaky. 

~

I quickly scribble something onto the cup of coffee, before gently placing it in front of the door, a few feet away to keep it safe. I take a shaky breath before knocking on the door and take off in a sprint down the hall before she can see me. That is, if she actually opens the door and doesn't ignore me. 

I stop once I reach the end of the hall and am able to hide behind the wall, peeking my head out slightly to see if she opens it. At first nothing happens, and my shoulders drop in disappointment. I drop my head onto the wall and quietly groan out my misery, I should've known me being romantic wouldn't work. Before I can sulk too much, I hear a door opening. 

My head shoots up and I instinctively shrink back a little to hide myself better. I glance out again and see Lauren in all her intimidating beauty, take a step out of her dorm room. She glances down both sides of the hall, before looking down and seeing the cup of coffee. I see her hesitantly reach for it, and I hold my breath as she brings it up to her level. She studies the side and I see her beautiful smile pull at her lips. With a shake of her head, she takes a final glance down the hall, before going back inside her room, closing the door gently, as if still afraid she'll smash my hand in it if she were to close it too roughly. 

I do a fist pump to myself, before glancing around to make sure no one saw that. All clear. Okay. Camila’s nonexistent cool reputation shall live another day. 

I made progress today. She didn't leave the cup of coffee outside and she smiled at what I had written. It may take a while to win her back, but I've always been down for the challenge. Especially now that I know she's absolutely worth it. 

At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet  
-Camz

Thank you, Plato.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the italics and pretty stuff i put has been lost and I'm honestly way too lazy to fix it. Happy Valentine's day beautiful people. Treat yourselves loves! Hope you like the chapter.


	5. Chapter 4

Then

“Don't drop it… Don't drop it… Come on Camila, show gravity who's boss…” I repetitively mutter to myself, focusing closely on the cup of coffee in my hand, while simultaneously trying to walk. I risk a glance at my phone and check the time, making a face when I see that class starts in ten minutes. Great, now I have to walk at normal speed, which is basically asking for disaster.

I put my game face on, determined to get this cup of coffee safely to that damn psych class, to give to the girl with the beautiful emerald eyes. I just hope she doesn't throw it at me. 

“Maybe I should've gone with iced coffee…” I say out loud, realization seeping into my voice. I look up and immediately blush when I notice the small girl I had seen outside a few days ago, looking at me weirdly, obviously having heard me speak to myself. 

I smile really wide at her. Might as well own my craziness. 

“This is a life or death situation, so don't judge me. I must get this coffee into that class, to give to a very intimidatingly beautiful girl that scares me without actually scaring me.” I say very seriously to her. 

Amusement quickly fills her features and she smiles at me back. 

“Well, it seems you're off to a good start. Good luck with her.” She cheerily says back, giving me a small wave, to which I give her a two finger salute and cheesy smile in thanks before she walks off. Yay to me not totally freaking out strangers. 

I continue walking and almost do a fist pump when I reach the door, but then rein in my excitement when I remember that this would be a horrible time to drop it. Come on Camila, home stretch. I stride straight into the open door, but then just like my sexuality, I curve a little. Or a lot. 

Thankfully I catch my footing, and am able to prevent that disaster from happening. I give the room a quick once over and smile victoriously when I spot Lauren. She's sitting down, reading a book, reclined so attractively casual in the seat. I look to her right and notice the seat is empty, well except for her bag. I roll my eyes fondly at that, and with a deep breath I make my way over to her carefully. 

“Do you mind if I sit here, Lauren?” I ask cheerfully. The bright green eyes I know she has, do not meet mine like I had hoped, but stay glued on her book. I shift from foot to foot nervously, heart starting to beat harshly in my chest. 

“Um…” I quietly say, nibbling on my bottom lip. A few seconds pass with me awkwardly standing here, before her hand shoots out and bluntly grabs her bag, dropping it at her feet shortly after. A huge smile once again blooms onto my face, only getting bigger when her eyes stay glued to her book. 

“Thanks!” I brightly squeak out, taking my seat next to her. I hesitate for a moment, looking down at the coffee and studying what I wrote onto the side. I play with the coffee cup sleeve, debating whether or not I should take it off. I shake my head at myself for a moment and instead pick up the cup and carefully place it onto her desk. 

Lauren slowly lowers her book, curiously eyeing the cup as if she has never seen one before. I smile bashfully when her eyes finally meet mine. 

“What the hell is that?” She questions me, trying to sound rough but really just sounding surprised. I hold back a chuckle and decide to act nonchalant about the fact that I just brought her coffee. 

“It's a cup of coffee from my favorite coffee shop. I was there earlier and I’d thought you'd like it. I didn't know how you took your coffee, but you seem like a no pain no gain type of person, so I only put a little bit of sugar. Not nearly the amount that I use, but hey I pretty much need sugar to exist so. To each their own, I guess.” 

Lauren gapes at me for a moment, eyebrows furrowed and studying me quite intently. 

“You- you brought me coffee?” 

My eyes soften at her obvious shock, and I settle for a smile and a nod as my answer, before reaching down and pulling out my binder and a pen to prepare for the lecture. I can feel her eyes on me, still baffled by such a small thing. Well, small for most people. Big for me since I can barely walk without tripping, so walking with a cup of hot coffee is pretty much a big deal. She doesn't need to know that though. 

Once I no longer feel her eyes on me, I turn towards her and see her studying the side of the cup, a light blush appearing on her cheeks when she sees the little note I scribbled onto it. 

I wait patiently for a response, but she just brings the cup to her lips to take a sip, a small smile very much visible despite how hard I know she is trying to suppress it. I hear Dr. Muller begin to speak in the background, but I let my eyes linger on Laurens beautiful side profile for a moment longer, eyes returning to her small smile. Mission accomplished. I continue to smile at her for a moment before forcing myself to face the front of the room so I can pay attention to the lesson. 

An hour and a half pass semi quickly, today's lecture being pretty interesting, but definitely lacking seeing as Lauren didn't passionately explode at the professor, as I had secretly hoped she would. I only allowed myself a few glances at her throughout the class, afraid that she would catch me staring if I chanced anything longer. 

“Alright class, that is all we have time for today. Make sure to read up on psychoanalysis. See you next week.” Dr. Muller gives us a firm nod as he wraps up the lesson and then proceeds to make his typical dramatic exit. I start to put my stuff away when I feel someone stand in front of me. 

I look up to see Lauren standing in front of me, biting her lip seeming to be mulling something over. I open my mouth to ask her if she needs something, but she quickly places something onto my desk before flashing me a timid smile and then striding out of the room. People and their dramatic exits these days. 

I glance down and smile when I see that she gave me the coffee sleeve. I roll my eyes, just thinking that she was being stubborn and totally disregarded my question like last time. I pick it up, ready to throw it out, but notice something scribbled under my own writing. I tilt my head to the side and further inspect it, a wide smile stretching across my face when I see what she wrote. Yep, I am so done for. 

How are you?   
-Camila 

I'm good, thanks for asking… And for the coffee. You're good at guessing people's sugar preference.  
-Lauren

 

Now

“I don't know what to do anymore D… how to get through to her. It's been weeks and she can hardly look at me…” I rub my face roughly, tiredly. Dinah sighs across from me, and I look up to see her giving me a sympathetic look. You know things are serious when she's not making an inappropriate joke. 

“C'mon chancho, you know Laur, how difficult it can be to get her to listen. Once she's hurt she completely shuts herself off.” She says, lowering her voice to try to get her point across. “You should know this better than anyone, seeing as you were persistent as hell in the beginning, always tryna get her to open up to you.” 

She puts her hand on top of mine when she notices my eyes starting to tear up. Dinah leans forward in her chair as she continues. “You hurt her Mila. Really bad. And yeah, I know why you did it and I totally understand, for Christ's sake anyone would've reacted like you had, but she has no idea what happened. She just thinks you left her for no reason other than to hurt her. And now you're back, months later, and she's just trying to stop herself from getting hurt again. She's going by what little information she has. You gotta tell her if you want any chance of getting her back.” She says, Her usually boisterous voice, now subdued and soothing. 

I swallow down a sob and take a second to compose myself enough to speak. We're out getting lunch four days after I left the coffee outside of Lauren’s dorm room. I had initially thought that I had made some sort of progress that day, but I was very wrong. The next day we ran into one another on campus and she completely ignored my existence, practically speeding away. She did it again the next day. And then again yesterday. 

I take a shuddering breath and finally speak. “Don't you think I know that? She won't listen to me. She won't talk to me. She won't even look at me, Dinah. I don't know how to fix this, It's so hard. I miss her so much it doesn't even make sense. It's like I get one moment sometimes, just one moment where she actually sees me, and then she's gone.” 

“Then use that moment.” Dinah simply says, shrugging her shoulders. 

“I can't just blurt it out, cheech. It took me two months to even tell you, and then that was mainly because it was a really bad day and I was so overwhelmed. I can't make her listen, it isn't fair to her.” I say pitifully, stirring my straw in my drink, watching the coffee spin, a little tornado. It gets me thinking about tornadoes and hurricanes and disasters. I stare into it, fascinated. I like the little things, finding the beauty in them. Lauren is beautiful. Anyone knows that, but it's the little things that I love more than the noticeable things. Anyone can say her eyes are green and captivating, especially now that her hair is black, drawing out the color of them. But they don't know all the different colors that make her shade of green. Lauren green. Looking into her eyes, it was like looking into the eye of a raging hurricane. So beautiful from a distance, even more beautiful up close, but to be sucked into them is deadly. Catastrophic. Detrimental. Just like a hurricane. She sucked me in that day in our psychology class, I knew she would, but just like when you see something dangerously beautiful, you just have to get closer. You know you shouldn't, but when do you get the chance to walk right into a hurricane? That's why they name hurricanes after people, after all. She is why. 

Despite all that though, I would walk straight into hurricane Lauren again and again. 

“Yeah maybe, but she has no idea what you went through. What you're going through.” Dinah's voice snaps me out of my little world, and I quickly stop stirring my coffee. The tornado slows, then dissipates. “I love Lauser, you know that, but how she's treating you isn't right. It's immature and completely belittles everything you've done right since you met her. She could make this so much easier.” 

I consider this for a moment, and yeah, maybe it is a little unfair, but I knew all along how she is. How her mind works. I shouldn't have left how I had, I could've handled this much better, and that's all on me. 

I shrug at her, “I left. I left someone who has a fear of being left and I still left. Yeah, she should atleast listen to me. Look at me as a whole instead of the one mistake I made, but I understand why she's doing this. I knew it wouldn't be easy. From the beginning I knew, but that's exactly why I pursued her. I never wanted to be content, I wanted to live and no one makes me feel as alive as she does. I don't want easy, I want her.” 

Dinah gives me a small smile and slightly shakes her head at me, as if she doesn't know what to do with me. And well. No one really does. 

“Have you talked to her?” She suddenly asks. And I don't even have to ask, to know who she's talking about. 

“No,” I shake my head, my shoulders dropping from pure emotional and mental exhaustion. “She hasn't been lucid, and I don't want to confuse her anymore than she already is. My dad tells me how she is though, says she okay. I still feel horrible for not taking a year off-” 

“Hey, no. You know she would've wanted you to continue school. She always wanted you to focus on school, Mila.” She says, eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“She also wanted me to be straight. I think it's safe to say that things aren't exactly black and white DJ.” 

I bite my lip, hoping the pain will distract me from the two holes in my heart, the ragged edges always painfully throbbing. 

“Camila,” Dinah starts, “you can't fix what's happening to her, but you can fix your relationship with Lauren.” 

I find myself nodding, a smile tugging at my lips. Yeah, I can. That is the main reason why I even bothered coming back this year anyway. 

“Thanks Cheechee, I don't know what I'd do without your very rare wisdom.” I tease, but the sincerity still distinguishable in my voice. 

Dinah flips her blonde hair, shooting me a quick wink, “well duh. I'm too fabulous to be serious all the time. Gives you wrinkles, girl.”

I laugh loudly, silently thanking god for giving me such an amazing friend. Also sending a quick prayer up there to ask for any help I can get, seeing as I'm gonna try to get through Lauren's new and improved walls. 

It's time to put my game face on, and show the world who's boss.


	6. Chapter 5

Then

“Hey Camila.” I jump just about five feet into the air at the unexpected sound of Lauren's voice, which, fitness. It's two days after our last psych class and I’d be lying if I said I wasn't suffering from serious Lauren withdrawals. I never thought I would miss being glared at so much. I guess you learn new things about yourself every day. 

I turn around and flash a cheesy smile in greeting, not particularly caring if I come off as too eager, I believe that you should let people know when you're happy to see them. What's the point in holding back on stuff like that? It's a beautiful thing when you know that you are genuinely wanted around. Or at least, that's how I see it. 

I give the green eyed beauty a quick once over, trying really extremely hard to not stare creepily at just how stunning this girl actually is. She's wearing a green short sleeved button up, open, over a black tank top and jeans. I don't even have to look down to know that she's wearing her infamous combat boots. God, she's so effortlessly attractive that it literally confuses the hell out of me. If I didn't already know that I was the gayest gay to ever gay, I would seriously be questioning my sexuality at the mere sight of her. 

I look into her eyes, slightly squinted because of the sunlight and almost sigh out in adoration at how hypnotizing all the different shades of green are. I see a thick eyebrow go up and oh- words. This is the part where I'm supposed to speak actual words. 

Oops.

“Hi Lauren! How are you on this beautiful and fine day?” I say brightly, hoping that I played off my obvious staring. 

Her pouty lips pull up into a smirk for a second- which yup. I'm not slick. 

Before I can turn red in embarrassment though, the unfair smirk disappears, and is replaced by a very very sincere smile. I almost clutch at my heart because of the serious palpitations that one smile is causing me. The smile is that amazing. 

“I'm good, thanks for asking. I don't know what you think makes this day beautiful and fine, though. It's way too fucking sunny.” Her raspy voice almost distracts me from actually hearing what she just said, almost because no one in there right mind would actually not listen to what she says so. I definitely heard her. 

I smile, “oh come on!, it's like, perfectly sunny. Not too much, but just enough.”

I almost say that it's beautiful because she's here, but I'd rather get to talk to her for a while longer before I scare her into running away. Sometimes you gotta pick your battles. 

After I say this something so terribly unfair happens. It almost makes my jaw drop. No, it almost cures cancer. No, it almost stops the world from spinning. 

She pouts. 

“My eyes are sensitive, okay? I don't like when it's really sunny…” I'm dead. I have died. She's too adorable for words, jesus christ. 

I am unable to contain a smitten sigh from escaping my lips, but quickly resume speaking so she doesn't have an opportunity to call me out on it. 

“Okay but, it’s the perfect weather- well maybe not perfect since I'm very much partial to the rain, but it's still so beautiful. Like, everything is so shiny because the sun is softly reflecting on it and there's an occasional breeze that makes sure it isn't uncomfortable out… It makes me want to sit outside and just-” I quickly close my mouth when I realize that I've definitely been talking way too much. 

I look down in embarrassment, feeling heat creep up my neck. My eyes squeeze shut, not wanting to see a freaked out look on her beautiful face. This is usually the part where people awkwardly excuse themselves so they can get away from. 

“And just…” Laurens voice tenderly rings out a moment later, prompting me to finish my sentence.   
My head snaps up quickly, eyes widening in surprise and I hold my breath at the look of obvious interest that's painted on her face. I open my mouth once, but then close it again right after, doubting whether or not I should actually continue. I really don't want to annoy her with my blabbering. 

Lauren waits patiently, soft smile on her face and eyebrows slightly arched up, facial expression more open than I've ever seen. I swallow thickly before deciding to take a chance. Here we go. 

“And just… be. God Lauren, things move so fast… People move so fast and never really appreciate things anymore. They go from one destination to the next and totally disregard the whole journey in between. I like to apparently the little things in between, that's what makes everything else worth it.” 

I bite my lip nervously, silently bracing myself for her to laugh in my face at how dumb I sound or to like, glare at me or something for wasting her time with nothing. 

To my surprise she has a thoroughly interested expression on her face and she nods her head in what I would assume, is agreement. 

“I'm definitely guilty of doing that… moving really fast. I don't mean to, like I most definitely love to appreciate the little things as well- it's just easier to go from one place to the next and rushing through the road it takes to get there. But um-” 

Lauren nervously cuts off, glancing at the ground for a moment and running her hand through her hair. I smile softly at her and gently urge her to go on as she did with me. 

“But…” 

She gives me an innocent smile at that, showing her teeth a little bit, which is something I've noticed that she doesn’t particularly like doing. I don't understand why though, her smile is so mesmerizing, I dont even have words to explain it. She must see something in the look I'm giving her, maybe something comforting because her stance relaxes and she continues. 

“But… sometimes, I just stop. I find the nearest place that makes me feel… Safe, I guess. I turn my phone off, because that shit is toxic sometimes. And I realize that- I mean… I just think it's really important to breathe and surround yourself with the beautiful parts of this world sometimes, uninterrupted. I definitely get what you mean, Camz- Camila.” 

I stare at her in awe, deciding to ignore her little slip up with my name, knowing that she just gave me a nickname, but since she corrected herself I can assume that she isn't comfortable enough to use it. I love it, but I can wait. I shake my head at just how perfect I find her, I don't think I've ever wanted someone as much as I find myself wanting her. I want to travel all the crevices of her beautiful, but obviously at times, dark, mind. 

I release a heavy sigh. “please go out with me for coffee or something. I genuinely just want to talk to you. Or better yet- I want to listen to everything you have to say.” 

Laurens eyes widen and a hint of a blush invaded her pale cheeks. She nervously shifts from foot to foot, torn about how to answer me. I can see that she wants to in her expressive eyes, but I know that she's holding herself back. Damn, this girl has really been hurt by someone in the past. It honestly angers me that someone this amazing could have been treated with anything less than she deserves. I want to change that, I want to give her the more that she deserves, if she'll allow it. 

“I don't think that's a good idea, Camila…” She starts, fiddling with the bottom of her shirt nervously. 

“Wait, just- look Lauren, I don't beat around the bush. I like to be straightforward and honest. I believe in being transparent because I think that life is too short to be constantly holding back. So, I just have to say that you... I am so interested in you. Your words, your mind, just everything. I want to know you… I know that you don't want to let me know you, or you don't want to want to let me know you, but you should know that I don't give up. I can be careful and I can be patient, I can be whatever you need me to be. I just want to get to know you, in whatever capicity you'll allow. So… coffee?” 

Fuck. Fuck, that was a lot. Dammit. I didn't mean to say all that, it's so soon, but I was just honest. 

Lauren studies me for a moment, analyzing me. Trying to figure me out, yet again. She tries to pull her features into her infamous scary glare, but her efforts are futile because her lips keep on quirking up into a smile. I made her smile. 

After another minute, another agonizing minute, she glances around us, slightly shaking her head. Most likely in disbelief at what she's about to say, and I hold my breath yet again, bracing myself for her answer. 

“... Okay. Okay, coffee. But you have to take me to that place you were talking about last time, your favorite coffee shop, the one where you got the coffee you brought me.” she nods once, slightly smiling at me. 

The biggest smile I've ever smiled practially splits my face open and- ohmygodshesaidyes. 

Be cool, Camila. Be cool. 

“As if I'd take you anywhere else.” I say, nodding my head in the direction we need to go, starting to walk, only to slightly trip and Lauren grabs ahold of my elbow to save me from a faceplant. Her laugh echoes around us, filling my stomach with butterflies and making my head feel light. 

Nailed it. 

Now

“Hey Lauren.” I say timidly and I see the green eyed girl flinch heavily, obviously not having heard me walk up. 

I was walking around in one of the top floors of the library, grazing my fingers along the spines of all the books, waiting for inspiration to strike, when I caught a glimpse of dark raven hair. I'm still not used to her hair being so dark, but I must say that it definitely does suit her. 

Lauren releases a deep sigh and turns to give me a weak smile, eyes tired and droopy, but still so beautiful. 

“Hi Camila. How are you?” She looks too tired to get up and run from me like she has been doing for the last two weeks, so I guess she's decided that an actual conversation for me won't hurt. Baby steps. 

“... On this beautiful and fine day…” I mumble quietly to myself, an old memory of us popping into my mind. I didn't mean for her to hear me, but I see a small smile tugging at her lips, a spark of recognition flashing into her emerald eyes. 

I clear my throat and take a step back to lean comfortably against the wall there. 

“I'm fine. Stressed… but fine. You look tired, are you getting enough sleep?” I can't help but ask, concern painting my features. I want to tell her that I'm extremely sad, that I feel like I'm disappearing more and more every day and that I miss her so much I can hardly breathe, but I can't bring myself to burden her with my problems. Not now. Not after the summer we've spent apart. Because of me. 

Lauren narrows her tired eyes at me, analyzing me in that way that Ive always loved. I’d like to think that she hears something in my voice that concerns her, just like she used to, but she just sighs and brings her hands up to rub at her eyes. 

“No I’m not getting much sleep, my ex-girlfriend is constantly trying to talk to me even though I tell her I don't want anything to do with her.” She says harshly, glaring at me accusingly. 

And in the quiet serenity of the library, I swear I can hear my heart shatter. 

Ex-girlfriend. We never even officially broke up. Or at least, I didn't think we had actually broken up. I guess I am always wrong. I need to stop making assumptions. 

I swallow thickly, my eyes starting to sting from the tears welling up in them. I guess I am being too pushy… maybe she's finally become tired of me… Annoyed by me. 

Maybe coming back was a mistake… I should have stayed home, helped out… my dad could definitely use the help… 

I take a shaky step to the side and decide that I need to get out of here. Now. 

“Uh… I'm sorry. Sorry, I di- didnt know… Sorry.” I mumble out pitifully. “I won't do it anymore…” I start to walk away on legs that are too heavy, heart that's too heavy, eyes that are too heavy. 

I make it a couple of feet before I hear a chair scrape against carpet, followed by an urgent raspy voice and a soft hand circling my wrist. 

“Wait! No, no no no, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry… I'm- I'm really tired and in a bad mood. I didn't mean that, Camz. At all.” She sounds so distressed, guilt coloring her voice. 

I don't fully believe her. 

I shift my weight to my other foot and blink rapidly, trying to keep my tears at bay. 

“Camila… Please turn around. I'm sorry… I'm a jerk and I say mean things when I'm stressed out, you know that. I didn't mean it.”

I turn around slowly, keeping my eyes on a space to the side of her, not wanting to look into her own, knowing that I'll start crying if I look into them. Knowing that I'll fall in love all over again if I look into them. 

“You meant it… I'm annoying you. I know that I am. You didn't want me to come back, I get that.” I say, my voice thick. 

“What? Hold on for a minute-” I shake my head furiously and put my hands up in an obvious sign for her to stop. I need to get out of here before I start hyperventilating. My ribs feel like they're curling in on themselves. It hurts to breathe. 

“No… just no. I- I can't. I have to go. I'll l-leave you alone now. Sorry.” My lip is trembling, or maybe my whole body is. I quickly turn around again and walk away as fast as I can. Needing to just get out. 

“Wait! Camila.” 

I guess I am good at running away now. 

The next few minutes are an absolute blur and the next thing I know, my shaky hands are trying desperately to insert the key into the lock of the door to my room. Hot tears are spilling down my cheeks and an occasional sob tears from my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut and take in a deep breath, trying the key again and finally unlocking the door. 

I rush inside and slam the door shut before leaning against it and sliding down. 

I cry. I cry for so many reasons, reasons I can't even believe are part of my life now. 

I miss my mom. 

I miss Lauren. 

I miss myself. 

I wish more than anything that I can go back. Go back to when things were just so right. Back to a time of love and happiness. And just- god. 

Sometimes I wonder if certain things are worth it. Or if certain things are meant to happen. Like was I meant to fall in love with Lauren? Or was she meant to fall in love with me? Was I meant to leave the way that I did, maybe to push us to see if what we have can withstand some push and pull. 

I remember back early on in our relationship she would ask me why I was so enthralled with the rain. She would say that she loves it as well, but that the look my face was the epitome of mesmerized, and then she would joke about how I'm much more smitten with the rain than I was with her. I remember holding her in my arms, trying to protect her from the world and just smiling. Just thinking. Just watching. She basked in my silence for a moment, knowing that I often get sucked into my musings. Knowing to wait a moment and I would surely share what’s on my mind. 

“It's just… It's sad Laur. But it's also so happy. The gray and soundless, but also the blue and muted noise. Its beautiful. The rain can stand for so many things. Whether it being an end to a story. Or a calming presence that will cry with you instead of leaving you to sob alone. It's something that's inevitable, you know? Like being sad. It's inevitable. Those days are bound to come, despite how happy you've recently been, but just like the rain, it ends eventually. It stops and the sun comes out and you're happy again. But its not the happy sunny part that gets me, its the time in between. The suspended silence and stillness that's in between both. I think that's where life happens. In the short still moments between happy and sad. Rain and sunshine. It's real. Decisions are made, tears are wiped away and the first hinting at a smile pulls at your lips. I love the little things Lauren, like the time in between rainfall and when the sun breaks through the clouds. Or right now, how I'm just holding you and telling you the pointless things that run through my mind. I love them because they're not small at all. They're where life happens.” 

I remember her awed silence and how I blushed a deep crimson red when I realized how far I had let my thoughts run. I wasn't used to people letting me talk for so long, allowing me to speak so unrestrained. They usually stop me or find me so weird that I'd never hear from them again. On the outside I'd pout and make a joke about it, but on the inside a piece of me would wither and die at the fact that I would have to hide parts of myself in order to have people stay. 

In that moment though, I remember looking down at her and seeing her galaxial pools of greens and blues and grays, just staring at me. Or searching me. She always had this look, this ever questioning look, always trying to figure things out and solve whatever happens to puzzle her. But in that moment her eyes seemed to lock in on mine, and I swear she found her answer. She found her answer in my words and in my eyes. She reached up and kissed my jaw and then returned her head to my chest, before speaking as clearly as I have ever heard her speak before. 

“I think my life is happening right now, Camz.” 

I smiled the most innocent smile I had ever smiled in my life before speaking in candor back, for once not being afraid that someone will walk away. “My life started to happen the moment you glared at me in Psych.” 

I had never loved anything more than the feeling of her laughing into the crook of my neck. 

She found her answer that day, it was a couple of months after I had found mine, but in love timing doesn't really matter. Who needs time when you can just look into someones eyes and just know that everything will be okay. The rain will end and the sun will shine and life just happens.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments guys!! I am so genuinely happy that people like this story.

Now:

I don't quite know how long I spent sitting there on the floor of my small and isolated dorm room, but it was long enough for my legs to fall asleep and a multitude of tears to roll down my heated cheeks. I bring my hands up and rub my eyes, trying to clear my distorted vision. My entire body sags from exhaustion, the aftereffects of the panic attack very prominent. 

I didn't used to get panic attacks. I also didn't used to cry so much. But then everything with my mom happened and then everything with Lauren and before I knew it, it all just went downhill. Everything has just become so overwhelming and taxing and I'm having trouble coping with it all, something that I'm not used to. 

I'm seriously considering just going home and re-enrolling next year, seeing as I'm not doing much good here. I shake my head at that, scolding myself. I made a promise, I have to stick to that. I mainly came back for Lauren, but I also came back because she always wanted me to focus on school. I'm here, but I'm not exactly focussing. 

At times like this I want nothing more than to call my mom and cry to her about how wrecked my life has become in such a short amount of time. I want to hear her tell me about how the world is a beautiful place if I were to only look up and embrace it, swallow it whole. I want her to call me Karla, even though she knows how much I hate being called that. Or l guess, she knew how much I hate it. 

I just want my mom. 

My chest feels like it concaves into itself when I realize that I can't just call my mom. I'll never be able to again. 

I wrap my shaking arms around my trembling body and softly knock my head against the door behind me once, twice, three and then four times. Rub my hands up and down my arms the same amount and then take the same amount of deep breaths. I find that doing things a certain amount of times, counting as I do it, helps me keep the panic at bay. 

I'm not okay, but I just have to find a way to be, because things are just surely going to get worse as time passes. 

I miss my mom. 

I squeeze my eyes shut and rest it onto my knees, curling into myself in a weak attempt at calming my frantic heart rate. 

A sharp knock on the door makes my heart pound painfully against my ribcage and for a moment I swear that I imagined it. I still for a moment, holding my breath only to release it shakily when someone again bangs their knuckles against the wood of my door. Four times. 

That means it's Lauren. She always knocks four times. 

I shakily climb to my feet and then rub my face to wipe away any and all tear tracks. I rest my forehead against the door and take a deep breath in a last ditch effort at grasping some sort of composure before I back away and pull the door open. 

Lauren's eyes widen at me, hand raised, ready to knock again, which she quickly uses to run through her raven locks, tousling them beautifully. 

“Uh… hi. I got your room number from Ally… She didn't want to tell me at first, but then I frowned at her for a while and she felt bad so she gave it to me. I would've been here sooner, but um… She put up a good fight. I hope that was okay? I mean I know it probably isn't, but I was worried and you look like you've been cryi-” 

“You're rambling, Laur.” I cut her off, an endeared smile tugging at my lips. 

Her face lights up in a bright red blush, obviously embarrassed at the change in roles. I'm always the rambling mess around her. Cool. 

Lauren gnaws on her bottom lip, guilt clouding her eyes- which are a shade of gray at the moment, a color that only appears when she's either tired or sad. I think she's both at the moment. 

I lean on one shoulder against the door frame, one arm coming to wrap around my torso, grasping onto my other arm. 

The older girl moves her hand up towards my face, probably wanting to wipe away a stray tear track I had missed in my previous attempt at clearing my marred face. Quickly though, she retracts her hand and brings it back to her side.

She takes a deep breath, “listen, Camila… About what you- what I said in the library-” 

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, bringing a hand up to halt her. I don't really want to be let down yet again today, way too soon. 

“It's okay, Lauren. I get it. You want me to leave you alone, I'll try to do that now… I'll do anything that'll make you happy. I'm really sorry that I've been so annoying...” I trail off, eyes downcast. 

“Whatever makes me happy? What does that even- In what world would you leaving me alone make me happy?” Lauren says, exasperated. “Listen, first off you don't annoy me, Camila. Okay? You never have and you never will. Don't ever think that. Absolutely nothing about you is annoying. And I-” She cuts herself off and runs a hand roughly through her hair before hesitantly continuing. “I… wanted you to come back. I always did. I just- I just don't want to want that. This is all just so confusing for me, I'm just so confused…” 

I gulp heavily. “Maybe I can help with that? I would really like explain-”

Lauren shakes her head rapidly, “no, please don't. I know you want to tell me why you left, but if you do that then… I don't want a reason to- to”

“Let me back in?” I complete her sentence for her, shoulder slumping. 

Lauren frowns. “Or to push you away permanently, if I'm being completely honest.” 

I look up at the ceiling for a moment, hoping to push the tears away before they have a chance to fully form. This is an endless cycle and I don't know how much longer I can continue in it. 

“I don't know what to do now, Laur. What do you want me to do? I swear I'll try to do it… I just need to know what direction you want to go in. Please just help me.” I practically plead, if only she knew that I was asking her for help in much more than just our tumultuous relationship. 

She opens her mouth once then closes it quickly after, seemingly unsure as to if she wants to say what she's thinking. 

“Maybe… maybe we can be friends?” Lauren timidly asks, making a face right after as if the words tasted bitter. I know they felt bitter for me to hear, that’s for sure. 

“Friends?” I depressingly ask. I want much more, but I'm obviously not in the position to ask for more. 

She gravely nods. “That's honestly all that I can handle right now, Camz.” Well at least she's being honest. 

I bite my lip to stop it from trembling, but then nod. Of course I'll say yes, I need her in my life in some capacity, but I also value honesty so I can't be held accountable for what comes out of my mouth next. 

“I'd be honored to be your friend, I don't think I can make it if I didn't have you in my life.” I pause and make sure to look determinedly into her eyes. “But Lauren, I'm going to be straight up with you and make clear it that I'm still so in love with you. So, there's that.” 

A small smile tugs at her lips, and that definitely fills me with a little bit of hope, which is a totally dangerous thing for me to have right now. She nods, but chooses to not comment on that and instead asks,

“Can I come in? I know you're sad, so we can watch The Notebook and order some pizza if you want.” 

And yeah, I'm still so in love. 

 

Then:

I used to always look at the ground when I walked, avoiding eye contact with everyone and anyone who crossed my path. I would tune them out and just stay in my own little world, truthfully the world scared me. How fast paced it was and how if you couldn't keep up, you would be left behind. It terrified me. But one day, my mom told me that if I continue to block out the world in order to avoid all the ugly, I'll ignore all the beauty in it as well. 

I remember walking out one day, I don't quite remember where I was going, maybe the library or to a coffee shop, I don't know. But as I was looking at the sidewalk, studying the cracks, I remembered her words and I looked up. I looked up and just gazed at everything that I passed by. It was like I was putting on glasses for the very first time, that moment when your vision is finally focussed and everything isn't fuzzy around the edges anymore. It all became clear.

This girl passed by me and we made eye contact. My first instinct was to look away, but before I could, she flashed me a smile and then continued walking. Someone smiled at me and I knew that I wanted to be that type of person. The one whose first instinct is to smile at a stranger when you randomly make eye contact with them. 

This is all I can think about as Lauren and I walk along this sidewalk, on our way to my favorite coffee shop. I think about this because while I am looking all around me and smiling at people who look my way, I notice that Lauren only has her eyes locked onto the ground. 

I am fully aware of how closed off she is, hell I've been subjecting myself to how abrasive her attitude is at times, but I know that all of that is just her way of hiding from all the bad in the world. I want to tell her that she should look up and acknowledge all the beauty it has as well. I want to tell her that I looked up and because of that, I get to see her. She is a prime example of the beauty in this world. There is absolutely nothing fuzzy about her. Only HD. 

I want to tell her all of this, but I know that sometimes you have to just be there and not speak, especially with someone who runs when words get real. So instead of spilling all the thoughts running through my mind, I simply look at her as she walks along this sidewalk, hands periodically clenching into fists only to relax a moment later, captivating eyes gazing at the cracked cement, and all I can do is smile softly at her. 

This moment feels like putting on glasses for the very first time. 

\---------

“Here. It's right here.” I say, my voice breaking the comfortable silence we had going on. 

The brunettes head snaps up and her emerald eyes dart from mine to the buildings to our immediate right. 

Confusion is obvious on her face as she asks, “Where? Which one?”

I smile at her adorable confusion and cock my head to the right, gently placing my hand on the small of her back, just barely grazing the material of her sweater, and then make a right. We walk a few steps down, in between two large businesses, until we reach a building smaller in size from the rest. 

Lauren gazes up and I watch her read the store sign quietly to herself. Slow Sip Abyss. She smiles to herself, seeming to like the name, I did the exact same thing when I discovered this place.   
I lean forward and open the door for her to walk through, and almost coo out loud when a blush appears on her porcelain skin. She ducks her head down in an attempt to hide it from me, and then quickly walks through the door. I shake my head fondly at her and follow her inside. 

I feel my body relax as soon as I enter the calming atmosphere of my favorite place on earth and immediately look at Lauren’s face. This feels like a make it or break it moment. I've never brought anyone here before and if she doesn't find anything special about it, my heart may just break. It's my place and I just have the unshakable feeling that if she connects with it in the same way that I do, then just maybe she'll one day be my girl. 

One can only hope, I guess. 

As I look at her face, I see something that is the equivalent of watching the most phenomenal sunset or captivating sunrise. Her eyes light up in a way that absolutely knocks the air straight out of my lungs. Her lips pull up into an adorably excited smile that makes me feel lightheaded. And gosh- she bounces on her the balls of her feet. 

Lauren connects her eyes to mine and I swear I forget how to breathe because in that moment I start to breathe another kind of air, one that is purely her. I feel like everything snaps into place for me, I'm no longer drifting along in this world, instead I'm tethered to her. I don't care how soon it is, or even that she will surely push me away soon. I don't care because I have to make this girl mine. 

She may not feel it too, but at that moment I know that she feels something seeing as her eyes do not leave mine. They are gazing into my brown ones deeply, perhaps searching for something that she cannot find because she does not know what exactly it is that she is looking for. I hope she never stops looking, I know that I won't. I may be the only one that feels magic tingling in my fingertips and flowers growing in my ribcage, but maybe once I fight my way through all of her perfectly constructed walls she'll let herself feel it as well. 

One can only hope. 

I place my hand onto her back yet again, and steer her toward my favorite table by the window, perfect for people watching. I pull out her chair for her and she blushes yet again. Damn, I'm on a roll today. Go Camila. 

Once she sits down I ask her, “I'll get us drinks, coffee?” 

Lauren is still looking around us, eyes swallowing every new thing hungrily, but she manages to nod distractedly. 

I smile fondly at her and move to walk to the counter when her voice prompts me to turn back. 

“Wait! Here, I can pay for my own drink.” 

I grin at her and shake my head, no. 

“Nope. I invite, I pay. It's a rule.” I say firmly, making sure she knows that I won't change my mind. 

She still tries to though. 

“What? Since when is that a rule? Whose rule even is that?” she asks, lips pouting at me in a way that makes me want to give her whatever she wants. Nope, stay strong. 

I give her my biggest and brightest smile, turning around to walk to the counter again, throwing my answer back to her. 

“Mine, duh.” I can practically hear her rolling her eyes at me. 

 

“So tell me, why don't you put sugar in your coffee like us normal people?” I teasingly question Lauren as I set our cups onto the table. She was gazing pensively out the window a moment ago and I sort of fear that she'll make a run for it when I least expect it. 

She looks at me and gives me the kind of smiles that just tell you that the person knows so much more than you do. Secrets that you would do anything to be privy too. I take a sip of my gloriously sweet coffee and wait for a reply that I'm not quite sure I'll get. Surprisingly, I do. 

“It's more of the principle of it, than it is the taste.” She starts, pausing as if giving me the chance to change the subject before she delves deeper into the topic. I lean forward a bit, letting her know that I want to hear all that she has to say. With a pleased smile, she continues in her ominous husky voice. 

“I tend to be more interested in the kinds of people who do not sweeten or dilute themselves for the sake of peoples tastes. Who never soften the blow of who they are. Like my coffee, I prefer the people I connect with to be full strength and searing hot. And able to rouse my weary, idle heart.” She sits back, crossing one arm across her chest, the other holding onto her ceramic cup of coffee, the same color as the dark liquid that lies within it. I stare at her, letting her words swirl around in my mind, considering them in their entirety. I knew there were layers to her, and now more than even I want to be the one to peel back each and every one. 

I notice Lauren fidgeting out of the corner of my eye and that prompts me to look up at her, just in time for me to notice her becoming seemingly insecure by what she had just said. 

I run a hand through my hair before asking a question that I'm not sure I want the answer to. 

“Am I able to rouse your weary and idle heart? Because I'm realising that you most definitely rouse mine.”


	8. Chapter 7

Now:

“So you're friends with her?” Shawn asks me with a very skeptical look on his face. He turns to face me fully, his interest obviously piqued. 

I sigh deeply, reaching my hand up to play with my bottom lip absentmindedly. Contemplating how in hell Lauren and I are friends. 

“I mean… Yeah, I guess we are.” I say with what I know is a perplexed look painting my features. Shawn releases a deep breath, slightly shaking his head, reaching up to place his palms to the back of his head and reclining further into his seat. 

“Mila…” he begins, already knowing what he is going to say, I simply nod my head. “Is that really such a good idea?” 

I release a quick burst of air, shrugging helplessly, “what was I supposed to do, Shawn? I was losing her, I needed to salvage us in whatever way I could.” I defend myself. 

Shawn sends me a look full of sympathy, a little bit of longing evident deep in his gaze. The longing that makes me regret telling him these things, especially while knowing how much it still hurts him. God, I really am a terrible person… 

“You're still in love with her, what are you going to do when being her friend isn't enough?” He asks me gently, obviously pushing through any pain he must feel, in order to be the great friend he has always been to me. Even after what I put him through this past summer. 

“It's really never going to be enough, Shawn. But I can't be without her, I've already done that, you saw how well that turned out. I'm just hoping that I can win her heart and her trust back. I'm hoping that I can prove to her that I'm different now… That I would never hurt her like that again.” I tell him honestly, reaching up to the rub the exhaustion from my eyes with the heels of my palms. 

“Why don't you just tell her about your... “ The adamant shaking of my head makes him trail off. 

“No. Absolutely not. She has made it clear that she doesn't want an explanation right now, and after thinking about it, I don't want her pity anyway. Or to use that as an excuse for what I've put her through. It's all on me, and I have to own up to it.” I tell him sternly. “This is my mistake, my actions, and I have to fix it on my own. I will not use my home life as a scapegoat for the things I've done. I acted rashly and immaturely and I fully recognize that now. Where I go from here is all on me, and I am going to fix this honestly and with pure intentions, just like she deserves.” I finish passionately, running both hands though my hair in frustration. 

“Camila…” Shawn starts, reaching over to rest his hand on top of mine, the tenderness in his eyes making tears fill mine. “you know I think the absolute best of you, but I don't think you're thinking this through. Is it really honest if you don't tell her about your mom? It isn't fair to her for her to be left in the dark like this, I know what it's like to have questions unanswered. Believe me, I get where you're coming from. I mean, I saw it all first hand. But more than that, I had a front row seat to your pain, don't you think you've hurt more than enough? You deserve forgiveness, and I'm afraid you're not going to get that unless you tell Lauren why exactly you cut her out of your life like that.” 

I clench my jaw, desperately trying to keep my tears at bay. I hurt so much, but what I won't tell him is that I think I deserve it. I've hurt two incredible people that have done nothing but love me. How can I possibly be forgiven for that? 

Shawn sighs, gathering that I have no response to give him. 

“Just think about it, okay? I hate seeing you in so much pain. And if you need me, I'm here for you.” He stands, preparing to leave me with my thoughts. 

“Wait!” I say frantically before he can leave, having the overwhelming need to tell him again. “Shawn, I'm so sorry that I hurt you…” 

Shawn looks down for a moment before looking at me with a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“Well I'm not sorry that I let you. Sometimes you have to hurt before you can heal, Mila.” He ducks down, pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek before throwing me one last genuine smile and turning to walk away. His words echoing in my mind for the rest of the day. 

I don't know what happens once you heal, but I just hope it's love. 

\-----------

I nervously bite my lip as I pace the expanse of my dorm room, every so often glancing at my phone as it lies on my bed. Anxiety coursing through my body as I desperately wait for a reply to the impulsive text I sent 3 minutes and 37 seconds ago. The words from the message running through my mind over and over again. 

Dinah, Ally and I are going to have a movie night at Ally’s apartment tonight and I wanted to know if you would like to come? Maybe? You don't have to, but I thought it could be fun? Sorry, rambling again… 

I groan miserably when I realize how pathetic that text was. Maybe I should have just told Ally to invite her instead. But I just thought that since we were friends now, it would be good to establish some sort of communication between us again. You know, something other than ambushing her outside of her dorm room or around campus whenever I spot her luscious raven locks. 

I groan again and let myself flop onto the hard floor, contemplating just going to sleep and waking up in ten years when things are different. Maybe future Camila will be smoother and much more eloquent. 

Yeah, probably not. 

I ding rings through my otherwise silent room and I immediately shoot up from the ground and dive for my phone, grasping the cold object in my hand before taking a deep breath and cautiously reading Lauren’s response. 

My love:  
Yeah sure, sounds like fun. Want to meet up and walk there together? 

Holy fuck. She said yes. Wait what? She said yes? And she wants to walk together. Oh shit what do I say? I didn't think this through, didn't think I would get this far… 

Okay, be cool, Camila. You got this. 

Great! Awesome! Yeah, I'll meet you outside your dorm? Unless you want to come to mine? I mean if you don't want to, you def don't have to. Whichever you prefer. Or we could meet outside in the quad? 

Fuck. I seriously hope future Camila is at least slightly better at this than present Camila is. 

Luckily I don't have to wait long for a reply. 

My love:  
lol hope you remembered to breathe. We can meet outside my room. But the only thing you didn't cover in that text is when? 

I groan yet again to myself and seriously contemplate that ten year nap before soldiering on and making one final attempt at being calm and collected. 

Ha ha very funny, laur. I always remember to breathe… half an hour good? I mean I can wait longer if you need more time, I know I should've asked you earlier, but you know me. 

I don't even have time to wallow in self pity before she replies. And her reply, although simple, has me smiling more than I have in months. 

My love:  
Don't worry, I do know you. Half an hour sounds great, see you then. 

Nailed it. 

__________

Then: 

She ran. 

Like, she literally ran out on me. I sniffle quietly and burrow deeper into my fluffy blanket, turning onto my side and desperately trying to keep quiet so as to not alarm my roommate and best friend, Dinah. It's hours after my coffee date with Lauren and I'm trying really hard to suck it up and get over the fact that she just got up and dashed out of Slow Sip Abyss, but my heart aches. It's not like I expected her to give me this big epic speech when I asked her if I could possibly be what she was looking for, but I most definitely didn't think she'd walk out on me like that. At the very least, I expected a murderous glare. 

Everyone always walks out on me...

I can't control a pathetic whimper from escaping my lips and I immediately clamp my hand over my mouth and hope that I didn't wake Dinah. 

“Mila?” shit. I should've known that my hopes never win out. 

“Yeah?” I mutter out feebly, wishing that I wasn't such a noisy cryer. I look over and see Dinah sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Her mane of blonde hair a gorgeous mess. 

“What's wrong? Why are you crying?” She says, concern painting her voice, eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

“Nothing. I'm not crying, you're crying.” I say quietly, hoping she'll let it go. 

“Oh Walz, you better tell me who made you cry because they're gonna catch these hands.”  

I can hear the anger in her voice and that has me smiling a little bit, despite how crappy I feel. I sit up, knowing she won't let it go and accept the fact that i'm going to have to spill. 

“I- I convinced Lauren to get coffee with me…” I began hesitantly, sadly looking down and wrapping my blanket around myself, wishing I could disappear. 

“I'm guessing it didn't go too well?” 

I look up at her and immediately burst into tears, shaking my head. 

“Oh Mila…” strong arms wrap themselves around me and hold me as I cry, waiting patiently for me to regain some semblance of composure. 

“Will you tell me what happened?” She inquires softly. 

Reaching up to rub at my eye, I nod my head. 

“It was going so well DJ. I actually got her to talk to me and god she is so smart and insightful. I was in heaven. I actually thought that she could potentially like me back, but then she made a comment about liking people that could rouse her weary heart and I asked if i do and she just… Ran. She looked at me for a moment and then looked down and the next thing I knew she was standing up and dashing out of the shop. I didn't even get a chance to go after her.” 

Dinah rubs my arm comfortingly, pulling me back into her arms when she hears my next words. 

“Why do people always run when I show them a piece of myself?” 

“Oh Chancho, because people are fucking stupid and don't deserve you. Just because they run isn't a reflection of how amazing you are, they just aren't mature enough to know someone as real and passionate and kind hearted as you…” 

My body shudders with a poorly contained sob, “I do-dont want them to deserve me though, I just want them to not make me feel like I've shown too much of myself. I don't want to water myself down Dinah. I want to be-to be…” 

“Understood?” she says softly. 

My lip trembles as I nod my head. 

Dinah sighs deeply, tucking my head underneath her chin. “We all want to be understood. But I've learned that not everyone will understand you in your life, but that's okay because when someone finally does, it is the absolute best feeling in the whole entire world. And it's all the more special because of how rare it is.” 

“I just thought that Lauren was starting to understand me…” 

“Maybe she does, Camila. Maybe she's just scared that it seems like you're starting to understanding her.” 

I look up at her, confused. “But why would that scare her?” 

Dinah gives me a sad smile, before telling me something that makes me look at this in a whole new light. 

“Because maybe she's been misunderstood her whole life, too.” 

\-------- 

I hesitate before stepping into my Psych lecture hall, contemplating whether or not I should skip today's class. I'm not really sure if I want to see Lauren again so soon, my confidence and self worth having taken a big hit when she ran out on me the other day. I bite my lip nervously before deciding that my grades shouldn't suffer just because i'm slightly heartbroken. Grasping the strap of my backpack tighter in my hands, I timidly walk into the room, keeping my eyes downcast. I sit down in the first available seat I encounter and refrain from looking back at my regular seat. I depressingly rest my head onto my hand and slump into my seat, waiting for the professor to walk in and begin the lesson. 

Not being able to help myself, I chance a glance back and do a double take when I notice Lauren already looking at me. I can't see her eyes clear enough from over here to read them, but I definitely see conflict overtaking her beautiful features. We hold eye contact for a long moment before the sound of the door slamming shut forces me to shit my attention to the front of the class. 

Dr. Muller places his stuff down onto the desk and immediately walks over to the board and scribbles down two words before recapping the marker and turning around to begin todays lesson. 

Defense Mechanisms

“Okay class, our topic for this week is defense mechanisms, or manners in which we behave or think in certain ways to better protect or defend ourselves.” He pauses to clear his throat before continuing, “Defense mechanisms are one way of looking at how people distance themselves from a full awareness of unpleasant thoughts, feelings and behaviors.” 

At how relevant this is to my current situation with a certain green eyed goddess, I sit up straight in my seat, giving him my undivided attention. 

“Psychologists have categorized defense mechanisms based upon how primitive they are. The more primitive a defense mechanism, the less effective it works for a person over the long-term. However, more primitive defense mechanisms are usually very effective short-term, and hence are favored by many people and children especially when such primitive defense mechanisms are first learned. Adults who don’t learn better ways of coping with stress or traumatic events in their lives will often resort to such primitive defense mechanisms as well.”

I glance back at Lauren to see her eyebrows furrowed in thought, before releasing a sigh and turning back to Dr. Muller. 

“Most defense mechanisms are fairly unconscious – that means most of us don’t realize we’re using them in the moment.” He moves back to the board and begins listing defense mechanisms, turning around to define them out loud once he's finished. 

Denial

Regression 

Acting out

Dissociation

Compartmentalization

Projection

Reaction Formation 

I quickly scribble down the seven defense mechanisms before returning my attention to him as he continues. 

“Denial is the refusal to accept reality or fact, acting as if a painful event, thought or feeling did not exist. It is considered one of the most primitive of the defense mechanisms because it is characteristic of early childhood development. Many people use denial in their everyday lives to avoid dealing with painful feelings or areas of their life they don’t wish to admit. For instance, a person who is a functioning alcoholic will often simply deny they have a drinking problem, pointing to how well they function in their job and relationships.” He walks to the other side of the room, hands moving as he speaks, his usual monotone voice now colored with exuberance. 

“Regression is the reversion to an earlier stage of development in the face of unacceptable thoughts or impulses. For an example an adolescent who is overwhelmed with fear, anger and growing sexual impulses might become clingy and start exhibiting earlier childhood behaviors he has long since overcome, such as bedwetting. An adult may regress when under a great deal of stress, refusing to leave their bed and engage in normal, everyday activities.” 

Shit, I think I do that when I'm stressed. 

“Acting Out is performing an extreme behavior in order to express thoughts or feelings the person feels incapable of otherwise expressing. Instead of saying, I’m angry with you, a person who acts out may instead throw a book at the person, or punch a hole through a wall. When a person acts out, it can act as a pressure release, and often helps the individual feel calmer and peaceful once again. For instance, a child’s temper tantrum is a form of acting out when he or she doesn’t get his or her way with a parent. Self-injury may also be a form of acting-out, expressing in physical pain what one cannot stand to feel emotionally.”

I clear my throat uncomfortably. 

“Dissociation is when a person loses track of time and/or person, and instead finds another representation of their self in order to continue in the moment. A person who dissociates often loses track of time or themselves and their usual thought processes and memories. People who have a history of any kind of childhood abuse often suffer from some form of dissociation. In extreme cases, dissociation can lead to a person believing they have multiple selves or multiple personality disorder. People who use dissociation often have a disconnected view of themselves in their world. Time and their own self-image may not flow continuously, as it does for most people. In this manner, a person who dissociates can disconnect from the real world for a time, and live in a different world that is not cluttered with thoughts, feelings or memories that are unbearable.” 

I furrow my brows in concentration, scribbling down the short definition. 

“Compartmentalization is a lesser form of dissociation, where parts of oneself are separated from awareness of other parts and behaving as if one had separate sets of values. An example might be an honest person who cheats on their income tax return and keeps their two value systems distinct and unintegrated while remaining unconscious of the cognitive dissonance.” 

I cock my head to the side at this one, kind of confused, he obviously notices quite a few confused faces, but he simply waves his hand nonchalantly. “We will delve deeper into them next class, today I simply want to introduce you all to what they are overall. Now to continue, Projection is the misattribution of a person’s undesired thoughts, feelings or impulses onto another person who does not have those thoughts, feelings or impulses. Projection is used especially when the thoughts are considered unacceptable for the person to express, or they feel completely ill at ease with having them. For example, a spouse may be angry at their significant other for not listening, when in fact it is the angry spouse who does not listen. Projection is often the result of a lack of insight and acknowledgement of one’s own motivations and feelings.” 

He moves to perch himself onto the edge of his desk for giving us the last one. “And last but most certainly not least, Reaction Formation is the converting of unwanted or dangerous thoughts, feelings or impulses into their opposites. For instance, a woman who is very angry with her boss and would like to quit her job may instead be overly kind and generous toward her boss and express a desire to keep working there forever. She is incapable of expressing the negative emotions of anger and unhappiness with her job, and instead becomes overly kind to publicly demonstrate her lack of anger and unhappiness.”

I swallow at that one, thinking of Lauren. What if she actually likes me and wants to talk to me, but to protect herself, she glares, lashes out and tries to get me to leave her alone. I look back again and find her looking at me with sad eyes, her jaw clenched, before she disconnects our eyes and looks down at her desk. Oh… 

“Now, for your homework I want you all to choose a defense mechanism and research it thoroughly. Write a one page paper detailing what you find. Class is dismissed.” Dr. Muller says, before grabbing his things and walking out. Figures. 

I release a shaky breath before grabbing my things and walking out, looking back before I do to see Lauren watching me leave, I see her swallow thickly before raising her hand to wave at me timidly, I pause and flash her a small smile, almost stopping, but deciding that I shouldn't yet. I begin the walk to my dorm, determined to educate myself on how I can get through to Lauren. 

Everyone should have someone who is willing to fight for them, and I'm going to prove to her that I am more than willing. 

_______________________  
_________

A/N: If anyone is interested, I'm back and I hope you like the update.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trash.

Then:

 

I don't exactly know why I care so much. Why I care so much about her. I mean, when I stop and think about it, she's been pretty mean to me. Terribly abrasive and downright temperamental. That type of attitude is something that I'm used to, people always grimacing at me once I open my mouth, speak my mind, pour out my heart. I'm used to the ostracization. I'm eccentric and goofy. And i've been told that if it weren't connected to my body, my head would literally be in the clouds. So, I get why people always leave me. It's nothing new nor is it anything surprising. 

 

So I ask myself, why am I trying so hard for her. Why am I making myself crazy, trying to get her to accept me. Open herself up to me. 

 

Sure, she's beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous when you think about it. But I've never been someone who cares much about looks, knowing that the aesthetics fade. It is what's on the inside that truly touches your heart. Lauren hasn't exactly shown me much of her inside. 

 

When I try to convince myself to just give up, to just move on and try to find someone more receptive to me, I see her eyes in my mind. I see behind that glare she always gives me, and I get stuck on that frightened look that lies deep within her gaze. I want to know what she's so afraid of, if it possibly matches my own fears. Is she as afraid of the world as I am? Maybe she fears acceptance the same way I fear rejection. Maybe she fears the light in the exact same way that I fear the dark. And maybe that's why I scare her so much, because while everything I represent may terrify her, she still finds herself wanting to be scared, so long as I were the one doing the scaring. 

 

At least, that's sort of how I feel about her. Her whole facade does not scared me, it is the vulnerability I see underneath that does. The vulnerability that draws me in, it just screams potential. It gives me hope that she can be the one that takes me for exactly who I am, not caring that I can be a handful most of the time. She makes me want to love the dark. 

 

But then she hurts me. 

 

And the fact that I let her, scares me even more.

 

And the unspoken fact that I kind of like it, scares me the most. 

 

I'd rather be hurt by her, than be hurt by anyone else. 

 

So I guess I sort of know why I care so much. It's because of how much I wish she did, too. 

 

\------------

 

“Class, as you know, your homework was to choose a defense mechanism and write a one page paper detailing what it is. I have reviewed your findings, and have chosen the best descriptions. The people I chose will step up and teach the class about their chosen defense mechanism.” Dr. Muller surprisingly tells us. Fuck. Couldn't he have told us earlier that that was what the assignment was for? 

 

It's three days after our last psychology lecture and five days after Lauren ran out on me when we went out for coffee. Five whole days since I've last spoken to her. On the bright side, I've only cried three out of the five days. 

 

It's safe to say Dinah isn't Lauren's biggest fan right now. 

 

I decided to forego sitting next to Lauren today as well, heeding Dinah’s words and putting my foot down and waiting to see if she comes up to me first. She hasn't yet. Practicing an enormous amount of self restraint, I haven't looked back at her once, but I swear I felt eyes on me the whole time I walked to my seat towards the front of the class and even as I sat down. I can still feel eyes on me now. 

 

“Now, I've decided to start at the bottom of the list and work our way up, so first up…” Dr. Muller states, looking down at a stack of papers in his hand. I recline in my seat, knowing it won't be me since I'm not exactly the smartest. 

 

My head snaps up and the blood draining from my face when I hear, “Camila Cabello, please step up and tell us about reaction formation.” 

 

What? 

 

I gape at the professor for a minute, oh no… 

 

He rolls his eyes at me, “Well Ms. Cabello, we don't have all day.” 

 

I slowly get to my feet and self consciously make my way to the front, turning to face the lecture hall and then look at Dr. Muller for guidance. Only getting a wave of his hand for me to begin. 

 

I clear my throat, “well um… Reaction formation is a-is a kind of psychological defense mechanism where a person perceives their true feelings or desires to be socially, or in some cases, legally unacceptable, and so they attempt to convince themselves or others that the opposite is true-often in a very exaggerated performance.” I shuffle from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the extreme burning in my cheeks. 

 

“Reaction Formation occurs when a person feels an urge to do or say something and then actually does or says something that is effectively the opposite of what they really want.” I glance at Lauren when I say this and find her giving me her utmost attention. 

“It also appears as a defense against a feared social punishment. So, say I fear that I'll be criticized for something, I very visibly act in a way that shows I'm personally a long way from the feared position.” I take a deep breath and muster up any bit of confidence I have in me, leveling Lauren with my gaze. 

“A common pattern in Reaction Formation is where the person uses excessive behavior, for example using exaggerated friendliness when the person is actually feeling unfriendly or vice versa.” I raise my eyebrows when I say those two words, speaking directly at her, before returning my attention to the class as a whole. “So say, a girl is terribly afraid of someone getting too close to her, but at the same time wants them to tear down her carefully constructed walls, reaction formation will make her treat that person in the exact opposite way of how she actually feels. Treating that person badly, when really she wants to do the opposite.” 

 

I glance back at the brown haired girl and see her green eyes darting back and forth, deep in thought. Her attention darting back to me when I begin to speak again. 

 

“In a therapeutic situation, you would help the person who is dysfunctionally forming contrary reactions by first creating a supportive environment where they can admit and accept what is happening to themselves. Then support their changing of position to somewhere that is more acceptable and appropriate for them. You would need to let them know that you understand that it is partially out of their control, and wish to give them another chance, so long as they try to conceal their abrasiveness and begin to take your feelings into consideration.” I say seriously, watching her brows furrow at my words. 

I sigh deeply, running a hand through my hair as I finish, “Seeing as defense mechanisms are usually symptoms of deeper problems and addressing them directly can be ineffective or even counter-productive. Simply showing the person that their position is opposed to their real feelings can just cause them to fall deeper into the hole they're digging themselves. So before this, you should first work on their primary conflict. Making them see that you are simply trying to help and want to be a pillar of support for that person. Thank you.” 

 

I keep my eyes on the ground as the class politely applauds me and pretty much dive back into my seat. 

 

Dr. Muller simply nods his head in approval before calling the next person on his list. The following presentations going through one ear and out the other, as I take light notes throughout the rest of the class. My thoughts instead focussed on troubled green eyes. 

 

When the professor dismisses us, I turn around to see black combat boots dashing out the back entrance. Not sparing me a second glance. I blink away tears and accept what I've always known. 

 

Everyone always runs from me. 

 

___________

 

Now: 

 

I walk down the corridors slowly, tracing the cool wall with just the tips of my fingers as I go, trying to count the bumps I feel in the paint, focussing so as to not confuse them with the small indentations. Counting harder when my nerves start to resurface. 

 

Two hundred and twelve. I'm nervous. Making my way to Lauren's room is proving to be much harder than it has been the previous times I've made this journey. I've been nervous all the times before this, sure. But this time, knowing that she is actually going to open the door when I knock, speak to me and be spoken to by me, that's making my heart beat faster than it has in a long time and that is saying a lot because I am a girl that has panic attacks on a daily. 

 

Three hundred and twenty four. I'm downright fucking terrified. What if she has changed her mind and decides that she doesn't want to hang out with me. What if her saying that we could be friends, was really her saying that we can be cordial and nothing else. I mean, she did stay behind and watch a movie with me. And we made a few jokes here and there, but not much else was said. She seemed pretty stiff sitting next to me on the floor, with the laptop between us. But then there was also a certain ease that overcame us once we got settled. It was if just being in each others company was enough to put our souls at rest. After she left, I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that we didn't actually talk. But things were still said. I think the stiffness in her shoulders was her body receiving the constant I love you’s and I'm sorry’s my heart decided to beat out in her direction. When I closed my eyes, I could swear that the staccato of hers was saying I know and I miss you, but I can't. Even the beats of her heart break mine. 

 

Five hundred and seventy six. Throughout the entirety of the movie, the only thing I could focus on was the tingling in my fingertips; last year that tingling was magic, my fingertips knowing that they were on the brink of greatness, but at that moment it was pure longing, the only thing they knew was want. Skin was always just skin, before I met her, but after it was so much more. After, it was stardust and cosmos, galaxies and constellations. After I met her, after I touched her skin for that very first time, skin was no longer an abundance of cells, it was the whole entire universe wrapped into one cosmic being. And the only thing I could focus on, was the fact that I was being deprived of the stars. That night I was Galileo, forced to admire the beauty from a distance. 

 

Seven hundred and twenty seven. There are no more bumps for me to count, I've reached my destination and my heart is trying to escape from it's jailcell, attempting to make a break for it and return to it's home, her hands. I ran my hands over the cold material of my green bomber jacket, brushing off imaginary dust and reminding myself that I am still a human being, despite the otherworldly traveling my mind and heart has done. I take a deep breath in and shakily release it back out before I clench my jaw and force a trembling hand into a fist, reaching up to knock four timid times onto the wood of her door. 

 

After what feels like a very long time, but in reality is less than a minute, I watch the door handle twist and the door itself pulled open. I wonder if Galileo felt this way when he made his first great discovery. I suddenly understand why at first no one gave any weight to his discoveries. This kind of greatness can only be understood by select few, and I am so glad I exist at the same time as her. 

 

Lauren Michelle Jauregui stands before me in all her porcelain skin, raven haired, green eyed beauty. All at once I don't need to count anymore. I don't need to know the amount of shades in her eyes or the number of freckles that dot her gorgeous face. I don't need to know because my heart is at rest and my soul is at peace, I don't need to feel in control because she is my hurricane and I am at her mercy, stepping right into the destruction yet again. 

 

“Hey, Camila.” I love you. “You look good.” Give me another chance. “You ready to go?” Please, help me. 

 

I flash her a smile, “Hey Lo.” I hope she knows that love her. “Thanks! You do, too.” I wonder if she wishes we were still together. “I'm good to go if you are.” Nobody ever sees the cry for help in my eyes. 

 

\----------

 

“So, how are classes going so far?” I softly ask her, my eyes darting between admiring the soft planes of her face and the jagged lines in the concrete. We spent the first couple minutes of our walk in silence, me needing the time to muster up any ounce of confidence that I have in me, in order to start a conversation with the intimidating girl next to me. 

 

I see the hint of a smile tug at her pouty lips as she hums to herself in thought for a moment before she turns to me to respond. 

 

“Pretty good, I guess. I mean the semester did just start, but they're already stacking the work load up on us. But weirdly enough, I sort of like the challenge.” she shrugs her shoulders gently before asking how they're going for me. 

 

I sigh. “They're all right, you're right about them slamming us with work, I'm thinking of dropping a class to help me balance them all.” I send her a timid smile, it dropping to a grimace when I see her sending me a look of confusion. 

 

“What? But that'll ruin your plan, Camz. You've never let a bit of hard work scare you before.” Her raspy voice rings out into the stillness of the air. 

 

I gulp at how true her words are, at how I used to absolutely love a challenge. I bite my bottom lip, carefully thinking about how much I want to reveal, deciding to keep it vague since it seems she feels comfortable enough to use her nickname for me, before responding. 

 

“If I've learned anything in the last few months, Lauren, it's that you can't plan for anything.” I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket, turning to look at her when she doesn't respond immediately. 

 

Lauren studies me for a moment, her gaze lingering on me longer than it has since I've returned, a concerned look on her face as she tries to figure me out, looking frustrated when she comes up empty. She looks forward and hums to herself in thought before agreeing with me. 

 

“Yeah, I guess you really can't.” 

 

I hesitantly open my mouth, not really knowing what I'm going to say, but am thankfully saved by the sound of my phone ringing. Releasing a sigh, I reach into my pocket to retrieve it, rolling my eyes lightly when I see Dinah’s name flashing across the screen. I hear a light giggle escape Lauren's mouth at my reaction and I bite my lip to contain a smile. 

 

“Yeah Cheechee?” I say exasperated. 

 

I hear her scoff and I can just imagine her bringing her hand up to her chest in mock offense. “The nerve, Walz. Where are you? Are you with Lauser yet?” 

 

Lauren releases a snort at Dinah’s old nickname for her and I flash her a small smile, mouthing a sorry at the interruption. 

 

She waves her hand at me, letting me know it's okay, and secretly I'm glad Dinah decided to call me right now. 

 

“Yes DJ, I'm with Lauren, we're almost to the apartment. Did you need anything?” 

 

“No girl, I just wanted to tell you to hurry your not so little Cuban booty up, you're lagging and I want to get my movie marathon on. And Ally won't let me have any cookies until you guys get here.” 

 

I laugh at her response, looking over and seeing Lauren's shoulders shaking in amusement as well, her glittering green eyes meeting mine and this time I can't help the huge goofy grin that's growing bigger by the minute. 

 

“I will walk as slow as I want, Dinah Jane and you can't do a thing about it.” I say to her in a teasing tone. 

 

“If you aren't here in five minutes, the first movie we're watching is The Conjuring.” 

 

“... “

 

I pause before immediately picking up my pace, encouraging Lauren to do the same. 

 

“I'll be there in four.”

 

I hear laughter, coming from both my phone and the beautiful girl speed walking next to me as I end the call. 

 

We make it in three.


	10. Chapter 9

Then

 

A loud knock makes me jump up in bed, my eyes frantically darting around my room, slightly crazed. I tilt my head in confusion for a moment, wondering if maybe I dreamt it, but then another solid four knocks sounds through my room. I roll my eyes and huff in annoyance, thinking maybe it's Dinah and she just forgot her keys again. I throw the blanket off of me and grumble about how the world hates me. 

 

I pull open the door and immediately start complaining. “Damn DJ, this is the third time this week…” I trail off once I notice no one is outside my door and lean out to peek down both sides of the hall. Seeing no one, I'm about to slam my door shut and dive back into my fluffy blanket and deliciously warm bed when something on the floor outside my door catches my eyes. 

 

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise when I see a to-go cup of coffee with the Slow Sip Abyss logo on one side of the coffee sleeve. I frown in confusion as I scan the hallway again, but clear my throat when I fail to see anyone. I reach down and grasp the warm cup in my hand, steam leisurely escaping through the hole on top, bathing me in the mouthwatering scent. 

 

I peek at the coffee sleeve and see three words written there in sharpie. 

 

Check inside sleeve. 

 

I furrow my brows in confusion, staring at the cup skeptically, wondering if it's going to explode if i remove the coffee sleeve. I hum in thought and then shrug carelessly, deciding that if it does detonate and I do die, then at least I will no longer be in debt and won't have to write the ten page paper I have due for my fiction writing class. I walk into my room, making sure to close the door firmly to ensure that there will be no mass casualties if and when it explodes. Slipping the coffee sleeve off, I set the cup down and peek inside of the stiff paper, interest piqued when I find a folded up paper lightly taped to the inside. I reach in and carefully extract it so as to not rip it, I bring it out and smile lightly at the open me written on the outside. I do as it tells me and my gaze softens when I see familiar writing taking up the paper. 

 

I know that I suck and you probably want nothing to do with me, but I was wondering if you would meet me today at the coffee shop and we could talk? I'd like a chance to try to explain myself… If not, I brought you this coffee so you would at least still be starting your day off right. It's filled with sugar and creamer even though it physically pained me to do so. 

 

I'll be sitting at the same place we sat last time, at 2 this afternoon. I hope you come. If not, I'll understand. 

 

\- Lauren

 

I swallow thickly, bringing hand up to my forehead as I shake my head. Dammit. Just when I thought I could let possibly let her go, she does something like this. And she's fucking adorable. 

 

Dammit. 

 

With a huge smile taking up my face, I reread the sweet note and am completely baffled that she would even do something like this. And here I thought that romantic gestures were my thing. I pick up the cup of coffee and tentatively take a sip, blushing profusely when I find that it is prepared exactly how I like it. 

 

Double dammit. 

 

Walking to my bed, I set the cup down and grab my pillow, only to bring it up to my face and release a squeal into it, hoping to expel the excitement and frustration that I feel bubbling up in the pit of my stomach. 

 

Nope, still there. 

 

Dammit. 

 

\-----------

 

I nervously tug on the sleeves of my long sleeve shirt when I hesitantly approach the all too familiar door, pausing to pull out my phone and take a quick glance at the time, swallowing nervously when I see that it is 1:59 in the afternoon. With a deep breath, I mentally prepare myself for the worst and slowly push it open, eyes immediately darting to my usual seat. My breath catches in my throat when I see Lauren sitting there, casually reading a book. She's absolutely gorgeous in her grey tank top and light blue denim jacket hanging loosely on her shoulders. I feel my breath knocked out of me as I watch her reach a hand up to run through her brown luscious locks, flipping her hair to the opposite side. God, she is a work of art. I know they say that art isn't supposed to look nice, it's supposed to make you feel something; they obviously never saw Lauren Jauregui because this girl looks amazing and is making me feel something- hell, she's making me feel everything. 

 

I feel my face heat up when I realize I've been watching her creepily from a distance for way too long and quickly glance around me to see if anyone has noticed. I immediately feel relieved when I come to the conclusion that no one has and then cautiously make my way to the green eyed girl.

 

Her eyes look up when she notices someone approaching, her scary glare at the ready, but it immediately softens when she realizes it's just me. Lauren sends me a tentative smile and stands when I reach the table. 

 

“Hey, Camila. I'm glad you could make it.” Her raspy voice reaches my ears, her tone the kindest I've ever heard it. 

 

I flush at how attractive she sounds and shoot her a small smile in greeting. 

 

“Hi. Of course, thanks for the coffee by the way, you really didn't have to.” 

 

I inwardly swoon when I see a blush creep up her neck and dust her elegant cheeks, as she bashfully looks down. 

 

“I know, but I wanted to. I'm honestly surprised you're here, I didn't think you'd come…” Lauren's voice trails off as she fiddles with her hands in front of her, looking awfully vulnerable. I restrain myself from scooping her up in my arms and protecting her from this mean world and decide that doing that sort of thing may be too soon. 

 

I softly release a breath of air and then gesture for us to sit down, letting out a soft chuckle when she breathes out a small oh yeah and quickly sits back down. 

 

I reach up to play with my lower lip for a moment and smile when I catch Lauren following the movement with her eyes. 

 

“I was always going to come back, Lauren. I was just waiting for you to ask.” 

 

Lauren's eyes widen in shock, obviously catching the deeper meaning to my words. I see slight fear appear in her gaze, but I don't cower or backtrack. I have a feeling this time could be different. 

 

Lauren swallows nervously, “I was going to talk to you after our last lecture but… I needed some time to think. To come to terms with some stuff.” She clears her throat uncomfortably, and I give her my complete attention, letting her know that I'll wait for her to gather her thoughts. 

 

She shifts in her seat a little before taking a deep breath, “I just… I'm going to try to be honest, okay? Just, I need a minute.” 

 

I smile at her gently. “Take your time, I'm not going anywhere.” 

 

The look she gives me next tells me that she has never heard those words spoken to her before. Dinah was right, she is like me. She's never been understood either. 

 

Lauren nods her head, more so to convince herself and after a few deep breaths, she starts. And my heart kind of stops. 

 

“I know that… I haven't been very fair to you, Camila. I know that I've been mean and rude. I know that it was immature of me to run out on you like that. And I'm- I'm really sorry, okay?” She pauses, swallowing thickly, I can see her hands shaking slightly from where they're resting clasped together on the table. 

 

“I guess I just have a really hard time trusting people and I find it so much easier to keep everyone out and stick to myself. I've had a lot of bad experiences with people hurting me and using me- I'm not going to go into all that now if that's okay…” At an understanding nod of my head, she continues. 

 

“... so to protect myself, I treat other people like crap so they know I'm not worth it… I've never had anyone stick around, anyone look past my image and the attitude I give off… Until you. For some reason you look at me differently and you question me and you genuinely want to know me and if i'm being completely honest that scares the crap out of me.” I open my mouth to tell her that it was never my intention to scare her or make her feel comfortable, but she gently raises her hand and I immediately close my mouth. 

 

“ Wait, I know- just let me finish please… “

 

I nod my head, mouthing a sorry and give her my undivided attention again. 

 

She smiles small and shakes her head at me fondly. 

 

“I've been having trouble believing that someone like you exists. Someone kind and open. Someone so deep and insightful. I've never met someone like you and I just keep on thinking it's too good to be true. You can't actually be this perfect. I don't trust it, but I can't seem to stay away either. I find myself thinking about you and wanting to talk to you… To hear what you have to say.” 

 

At that my eyes brighten. She wants to hear what I have to say. 

 

“But then I get angry at the fact that I want to let you in and have you let me in, so I lash out and treat you so badly. But then I spend my day with your wounded expression seared into my mind and it… Hurts. It hurts me to hurt you but then I keep on doing it. And- and i'm sorry, Camila. I don't want to hurt you, I really don't mean to, i'm just… Messed up. I'm a horrible person and i'm damaged and I just… You should walk away before I hurt you again. Please, trust me, it's not worth it. I'm just going to keep on hurting you.” Lauren looks at me with watery eyes and a voice that's obviously choking back tears and- god. 

 

As if she could scare me away that easily. 

 

I can't help smiling at her, and I know I probably shouldn't be, I should be serious and maybe even do what she's telling me to do- walk away. But the only thing I can focus on is the happiness I feel bubbling up in my chest. Happiness at the fact that she's actually talking to me, opening up to me, being honest with me. That's all I've ever wanted from her. 

 

As if I could actually walk away from her now. I'm hooked. 

 

I slowly reach over and place my hand on top of her still trembling ones and lean in slightly to speak to her in a hushed tone, wanting her to really feel what I'm going to say. 

 

“I remember looking at you that first day, Lauren. I remember that glare you shot at me and I just… wasn't scared. I was interested. I saw something behind it, something that told me it wasn't genuine. It was… rehearsed. It was a well practiced glare and I immediately wanted to know why someone as beautiful as you would want to scare people off. And then I heard you rant to Dr. Muller- watched you completely tear him a new one-” She smiles slightly at that, a smile grows on my face in response. 

 

“... and I heard your diction and felt your passion and I was hooked. I could already tell your mind was so intricate and I wanted to hear more. To know more. To understand more. I knew there had to be a reason why you acted the way you did. We all have reasons as to why we are the way we are. I have reasons why I am the way i am. I'm not perfect, not even close. I'm damaged too, Laur. Very deeply damaged, but I don't see it as a fault. I see it as character. I've been through stuff and i'm going to go through more. If you block out the world so you won't have to see the ugly, you're going to miss all the beauty in it as well. I think you're beautiful and if I hadn't embraced my pain and accepted it for what it was, I would have never seen you. Really seen you.” 

 

Glassy green eyes stare at me with an expression so heart wrenching, but so genuine and filled with hope, that it physically hurts me to breathe. 

 

Her voice trembles as she speaks, “You still think I'm beautiful? Even after i've treated you so horribly?” 

 

I smile. “Yes. It never felt genuine, a big part of me knew you didn't actually want to hurt me like that. And the times where who you actually are peaked through… God those made it all so worth it.” 

 

“But I did hurt you… A part of you thought I meant it…” She looks down sadly, lips pulled into a grimace. 

 

I sigh regretfully, but decide honesty is in fact the best policy. “Yeah, a part of me did. You did hurt me. A lot, but i'd go through it again if it meant id get the chance to know you… To really actually know you.” 

 

“What if I hurt you again?” 

 

I shake my head, shifting in my seat, trying to fight my need to crouch in front of Lauren and force her to meet my gaze. “I can take a little pain. I don't want to be content and sane. I want passion and for someone to drive me a little crazy. I want you Lauren. As you've been. As you are. As you could be. We can take this at whatever pace you need. I told you that I can be careful and patient. I just need communication and honesty. If you're feeling suffocated or afraid, I'll take a step back or I'll comfort you and try to ease you of your fears. If you need a minute to yourself, I can give you that. If you need me there but just want silence, I can bring a book and we can just sit there with one another for as long as you need. I can be whatever you need me to be. I just know that I want this. I want a chance to know you. And… I- I want you to know me.” Please, know me. 

 

Lauren wipes away a traitorous tear that has escaped and her body shakes with a poorly repressed sob. “God… you are perfect. I want to know you too, Camila. I just need… Please, I need slow. I'm not used to this, just please be patient with me.” Her voice pleads, as if I'd do anything but that. 

 

With a beaming smile and watery eyes, I nod my head enthusiastically, ecstatic at today's turn of events. 

 

“I can do that.” 

 

Finally. 

 

___________

 

Now 

 

“I told you that in the beginning. That it wouldn't work and that you’d probably get hurt. Except the fucking plot twist is, I didn't hurt you. It was the other way around. Jokes on me huh?”

 

My hands grasp the cool marble of the countertop so hard my knuckles are a frighteningly shade of white. I have my eyes clenched so tight that I can see swirls of colors bursting in the all consuming black. I can hear Lauren's voice, her real one in the other room excitedly telling Ally about a tattoo she wants to get. And then I hear her past voice in my head, reminding me of how much I had hurt her. 

 

“Get. Out.” 

 

“Stop… Stop. Don't you dare cry, Camila…” I whisper to myself, trying to get my emotions under control. I bring a trembling hand up to my pulse point, forcing myself to count the erratic beats of my heart. Desperately trying to keep the panic at bay. 

 

“Fuck no. You left. All on your own. Do us both a favor and just stay gone.”

 

A pathetic whimper escapes my lips as the memory flashes in my mind, torturing me. I bend over and rest my forehead atop the counter, hoping the coolness of it on my heated skin will snap me out of my panic attack, my shoulders shaking in a muffled sob when it doesn't work and all I can focus on is the anxiety coursing through my veins. 

 

“We should have never been together in the first place…”

 

“Fuck.” I can't. Out of all my painful memories, this is the one that had to come up right now? Right when I was actually having a conversation with Lauren, right when we were all having a good time. 

 

I just had to see that text on her phone. 

 

Lucy:  
Are you sure you want to be friends with Camila? You know that what she did to you was all kinds of fucked up… I don't want you getting hurt babe. 

 

Right when I saw that, all other voices became muted and I suddenly couldn't breathe. 

 

Babe. 

 

Are they together now? Lauren told me they were just friends and that's all they'd ever be. Had she lied? 

 

Have I finally lost her?

 

Maybe she's better off without me anyway… 

 

A rough gasp escapes my lips as I attempt to get my breathing back to normal, reaching up to tug on my hair in a panic when I realize I can't. 

 

“No no no… Please not now.” I back up a few steps, wanting to slide down the wall to sit on the floor and put my head between my legs, but I accidentally knock over a cup, causing it to fall to the ground and shatter, reminding me of my heart.   
“Camz?” I hear her raspy voice ask through the door, all conversation coming to an abrupt halt. 

 

I open my mouth to tell them I'm okay, but I can't force any words out, my throat feeling closed off. 

 

“Wait, no Lauren, I'll go. You know Mila, she's probably embarrassed that she broke another glass and quickly trying to clean it up before we see. I'll go tell her it’s okay.” 

 

Dinah. God, I couldn't ask for a better best friend. 

 

“Yeah Lo, finish telling me about your tattoo. Where'd you get the idea from?” Ally quickly says, trying to distract Lauren and get her interested in their conversation again. I can just imagine her sending Dinah a concerned look, letting her know she can handle Lauren and for Dinah to make sure I'm okay. 

 

Lauren's hesitant voice rings out. “Oh um… yeah okay, I was on tumblr…” 

 

I slide to the ground and try to keep my broken gasps as quiet as possible, I hear the door being pushed open slightly and then a quiet, “Oh Walz…” I try to count the amount of slow steps she takes to get to me, but I can hardly hear them over the sound of my erratic breathing. 

 

“C’mon Mila, put your head between your legs… Yeah just like that… try to take some deep breaths.” I try to listen to her, but I can't breathe. 

 

“Shit, Camila look at me please.” I can hear the panic in her voice, even though she tries to conceal it. 

 

My head feeling like a cinder block, I very slowly lift it up, trying to focus my gaze onto her. 

 

“Okay good, good job. Here's what I want you to do. Can you tell me five things you see?” She softly says, repeating it a little louder when I don't respond. 

 

Five things I see. I try to ignore the heaving of my chest and squeeze my eyes shut for a moment before looking around the room. 

 

“I- I see y-you…” I manage to spit out. A soft whimper escaping my lips before I continue. “Um… glass and the f-floor… On the floor. I'm s-sorry-” 

 

“Sh It's okay Camila, that's not a big deal. Can you tell me two more things you see?” Dinah moves to sit right next to me, encouraging me to continue. 

 

I shakily nod my head, “my shoes… and um- the- the counter.” I pull my legs up to chest again, trying to make myself smaller, the panic lessening some but very much still present. 

 

I hear Dinahs voice in my ear, “that's great, now can you tell me four things you can touch?” 

 

I instantly shake my head, I can't. Four things is too many, I can't feel anything other than my heart beating frantically in my chest. Immediately my breathing starts to speed up again and Dinah is quick try to calm me. 

 

“Okay okay, that's fine. It's okay, um okay can you just tell me what you hear? Try to focus…” 

 

What I can hear. I can hear my heart. I can hear the sound of my uneven breaths. I can hear Dinahs voice. I can't hear anything else… 

 

“Din-” A sob prevents me from finishing my sentence, preventing me from telling her that I can't hear anything else. 

 

“Focus Camila. Tell me what you hear.” 

 

I squeeze my eyes shut again and try really hard to focus on the things around me. The rushing in my ears fades away and I can hear something… 

 

“that's what art is at the end of the day, it's an escapism that we all crave…” 

 

Lauren. 

 

I smile a little bit at the snippet of what I'm sure was a long and passionate rant about tattoos and why she doesn't care about the negative things people have to say about them. 

 

“I just want people to express themselves in a world where everyone is the same… I don't get why people judge a person that has a lot of tattoos, why they say they're ugly, beauty is not defined by the clothes you wear or the makeup on your face, but by the way you carry your struggles with smiles, hard work, and love.” 

 

God I love her mind, I wish I could listen to her talk all day… 

 

“Mila?” 

 

I slowly raise my head at the sound of Dinah's voice, wiping my cheeks with my sleeve as I hesitantly turn to look at her. 

 

“Are you okay?” She asks softly, her brown eyes searching mine. 

 

I nod my head, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment when I realize I had a panic attack in the middle of our movie night. I always ruin all the fun… 

 

“I'm sorry…” I pitifully say, lowering my head in shame. 

 

Dinah is quick to respond, “hey no, none of that girl. You know it's not your fault. But um… can I ask what triggered it? It seemed like you were having a good time.” 

 

I quickly shake my head, “I was having a good time I just,” I take a deep breath, furrowing my eyebrows when I recall the text I saw. “I saw a text on Lauren's phone and the next thing I know I'm rushing to the kitchen and I couldn't breathe…” 

 

Dinah runs her hand through her hair and then reaches over and puts her arm around my shoulders. She doesn't say anything and I have never been more grateful to have her in my life as I am right now. 

 

“Dinah?” I tentatively say a moment later, hesitating for a moment when she hums in response. 

 

“I'm not okay.” My lip quivers at the admission, I need help, is what I don't admit. 

 

“I know.” her voice thick with emotion. 

 

“Dinah?” I ask again. 

 

“Yeah, Mila?” 

 

“I miss my mom.” 

 

Dinah reaches up to wrap her other arm me as well, tucking me into her body as she embraces me. My body shaking as I cry hard. I miss my mom. So much. 

 

“I know…” 

 

And somehow those two words make me feel a little less alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments make me happy. Let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 10

Now:

 

“Camila?” A soft voice speaks up from in front of me. I look up and my heart jumps into my throat when I see Lucy standing there. I didn't think i'd be ambushed on my way to the library. 

 

“Hey…” I hesitantly say in greeting, glancing around to see if Lauren was nearby. That seems to be a pattern these days. The last couple of weeks they've been attached at the hip. Whenever I dare to leave my room, I'm unlucky enough to spot them nearby. 

 

Going to get coffee? Lauren and Lucy are sitting out in on the grass, laughing. 

 

Heading to Dinah's and Ally’s apartment? Oh, Lauren and Lucy are leaving one of the buildings at the same time. 

 

My heart is ripped from my chest every single time I see them. Every time I can see Lauren's eyes shining from when I stand. Knowing that someone else is making her happy. 

 

But Lauren asked me to give her some space, and all I want is for her to be happy, so I oblige and suffer in silence. 

 

Except, right now Lucy is alone. 

 

And speaking. 

 

“I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment?” 

 

I have a feeling I know what this is about… but still I find myself nodding my head and suggesting we sit at a bench off to the side. 

 

Lucy releases a deep breath, “I think it's time you let Lauren go.” 

 

Well. Okay, I didn't think she'd be so blunt. 

 

I furrow my brows at her and she continues. 

 

“You hurt her, okay? So fucking much and right when she finally started to… Function again, you come back and expect her to just forget about what you put her through.” 

 

“Woah hold on, first of all you have no idea what you're talking about, okay? I never once said I expected her to just forget it, I never once acted like what I did was okay. I get that you're her friend, but you only have half a story and you don't get to-”

 

“No, Camila. You fucked up. Bad. And I won't let you mess her up again. I've always told her she was too good for you, and she never listened. Look at how that ended up. Just-just let her go and let her live her life. It's what she wants, she's just too nice of a person to say it to your face. Just accept that you're a bad person and stop holding Lauren back. She wants you out of her life.” Lucy stares deep into my eyes as she says this, probably wanting to see my soul breaking for herself. 

 

I stutter out, “I'm not a bad person… Lauren would never say-” 

 

“Maybe not to your face, but she definitely says it to me. It's getting pathetic, every time her phone lights up with your name, you should see the pity in her eyes. She doesn't love you anymore. You're just annoying her.” 

 

“And what, she loves you now?” I angrily shoot out. Her last words hitting me too close to home. 

 

Lucy nods her head calmly, my tone not even making her flinch. “She loves me a lot more than she loves you right now, that's for sure.” 

 

I just stare at her, trying to clear my head enough to say something of substance back, but all I can think about is the phrase ‘she doesn't love you anymore’ repeating over and over again. I feel Lucy standing up, obviously feeling like her job is done. But still, she feels the need to drive her point home. 

 

“Just do us all a favor, and let her go.” 

 

She leaves me sitting there alone, my hand clutching at my aching heart, trying to figure what's real and what isn't. 

 

___________

 

“Hey.” I jump nearly five feet into the air when an unexpected husky voice speaks to my immediate right. 

 

“Jesus fucking christ!” I exclaim as I place a hand over my heart, checking to make sure it's still there and has not actually jumped out of my chest.  
When I'm sure all is well and I am still alive, I acknowledge the jerk that thought it'd be a great idea to sneak up on me when I'm so immersed in the book I'm reading. 

 

I look up and am greeted with apologetic green eyes and a guilty smile tugging at red painted lips. My heart twists painfully in my chest as Lucy's words play in my mind. I quickly shake them off and just hope that they didn't hold any truth. 

 

“Sorry, I forgot you go into your own little world when you're reading…” Lauren's husky voice speaks out, she cocks her head at the seat in front of me and I hesitate for a moment before deciding that Lauren wouldn't be talking to me if she wanted me to leave her alone, and simply wave my hand at it in encouragement. 

 

“Yeah, thanks for shaving off ten years of my life, it's not like I need them for living or anything.” I mutter at her back, running a shaky hand through my hair. 

 

Lauren chuckles, shaking her head at me. “If anything I just did you a favor,” 

 

I quirk an eyebrow, “oh yeah? How so?” 

 

“you always complain about wanting more time to sleep, now you have ten years added onto that.” 

 

I squint my eyes at her, “um that's not exactly what I had in mind when I said that? Sleep and death are two entirely different things, Laur.” I say incredulously, nonetheless happy that she's being so playful with me. 

 

“I don't know, Camz. Many will argue that sleep is pretty much death, just without the commitment.” Lauren says, matter of factly. 

 

“I beg to differ, when you sleep you dream. It's kind of a way to give yourself the things you want the most in life… but when you die, there's nothing. You're just gone. At least when you're asleep, you can enjoy the gifts your subconscious gives you.” I recline back in my seat, reaching up to tug on my lower lip lightly. 

 

“Not all people believe there's nothing after you die. What if it's just one eternal dream? A place where you get to live out the life you wish you had when you were alive.” Lauren tells me, voice solemn. 

 

I look down for a moment, nodding my head lightly. “Well, I hope you're right. Maybe then my life won't be as messed up as it is now.” 

 

Lauren furrows her brows at me. “When did you become so glass half empty? Whatever happened to the girl that would just stop and enjoy the world?” 

 

I swallow thickly at that, eyes watering slightly, as they always do when someone speaks up on how much I've changed. 

 

“The world decided it didn't want me to enjoy it.” 

 

I lightly run my hand over the pages of the book in front of me and try not to focus too much on how hard Lauren is staring at me. I know she has her calculating look on, the one that means she's trying to figure something out. If I'm being completely honest, I don't even want to know what she's looking for this time, I'm still hurt over whatever it is she has with Lucy. Hurt over the fact that they talk about me. Lauren won't even have a real conversation with me, but she'll talk about me to a girl she knows I feel incredibly insecure about. 

 

I am trying really hard not to be upset, mainly because I know I hurt her. I know I left her. But lately, all I can hear are Dinah's words in the back of my mind telling me that I am so much more than one mistake. That Lauren should at least listen to the reason as to why I left. And then what if she is saying all those negative things about me to Lucy? Telling her how much I'm annoying her… 

 

The fact that she doesn't seem to even want to know, doesn't even ask me what's wrong when it's so obvious that I'm going through something, just makes me feel like my feelings aren't valid. 

 

I'm trying not to be upset. 

 

But all I can focus on is how she can't figure me out anymore. How she looks at me like I'm a question when she spent so long looking at me like I was her answer. 

 

All this back and forth is driving me crazy and I'm having a lot of trouble keeping afloat. I used to consider myself a sane person. Despite the occasional irrational thoughts that everyone so frequently has, I've always been a sane person. That is, until I met Lauren. I met her and she was so beautiful. Her eyes captivating, able to set my soul on fire, but also freeze the innermost crevices if my essence. Her voice more soul crushingly melodic than any song i've ever heard. Within the rasp of her voice, lyrics that surpass that of any poetic artist could ever dream to express. The ever constant pounding of her heart, a resounding thud that resonated throughout my live wire body. A body that pulsated with the need to exist within the realms of her mind. 

 

The harsh truth of it all is that while she lived in my veins, an electric current that dictated the beating of my heart, she's now making me feel as though I was only a body to her. No more important than a nameless face or a faceless name. I'm trying to believe that isn't true, to focus on the the way she used to look at me. The love I saw in her eyes, but my fragile state of mind is having trouble making the connection. If she really loved me, wouldn't she want to sit down and talk about everything? Even just for closure. 

 

While I spend my time attempting to put the electric current with eyes the color of my dreams fears and heartbeat onto paper, all they are to her are words scrawled in ink that litter the pages of all my class assignments, all titled lost love. My name on top no longer looks like it says Camila and more like it spells out poor soul. All these papers depict a person who was once sane, but lost their mind trying to stay on hers. 

 

I'm trying not to be upset, though. 

 

“But when has that ever stopped you before? You were always able to look at the bright side of things.” 

 

I nibble on my lip softly, “maybe there stopped being a bright side, Laur. You can't look at what's not there.” 

 

“Then maybe-” Lauren pauses or a moment, “maybe you should be your own bright side.”

 

I begin to become uncomfortable with the serious undercurrent to her tone, so I do what any socially awkward person does when they're nervous. 

 

“I think I'll just leave that to Mr. Brightside.” 

 

I crack a joke. 

 

Lauren laughs softly, mutters and oh my god under her breath. She holds eye contact with me for a moment and her smile slowly dissolves, a tinge of sadness appearing within her gaze. 

 

“It started out with a kiss…” she mutters softly. 

 

I smile sadly, “how did it end up like this?” 

 

I notice a twitch in her jaw and that tells me she's hurting inside, it's nice to know I'm not the only one. 

 

“Except, it actually started out with an unflinching glare, but really same thing.” I say, trying to hide the fact that my voice is shaking. The jokes are the only things that are keeping me from blurting out what's been eating me alive since late May. Maybe Lucy's wrong all I need to do is speak up, maybe Lauren is ready to hear what I have to say. Maybe she'll finally let me tell her what's been going on with me, maybe we'll finally be okay. I'll finally be okay. Lauren understands me, or at least she understood me. If I told her, maybe she'll be there for me and I won't be so alone anymore. 

 

Lauren ignores what I said and instead slowly begins speaking, maybe she'll ask the right question and I can finally say it out loud. “Camila… is this about us? I mean, is what happened between us the reason why you look so-” a ding interrupts her from whatever she was saying and we both look down at her phone that is lying on the table, between us. 

 

New Message from Lucy. 

 

I guess not. 

 

Lucy has always been between us so I guess that's fitting. 

 

I clench my jaw in annoyance and suddenly. 

 

I'm upset. There's no more trying not to be. 

 

“You know, Lauren, if you ever cared to ask, you would know that my life doesn't just revolve around you. If you cared enough to just ask, you would know-” I exhale forcefully when her ringtone pierces the air, squeezing my eyes shut painfully for a moment when I see her name dance across the screen. 

 

Incoming Call… Lucy

 

“Right. I forgot, it's not like what I'm feeling ever matters anyway.” I say, looking deeply into her troubled green eyes as she slowly reaches for her phone. “it's nice to know that three months gone trumps the eight months I spent putting you first.” I spit out at her shocked face. 

 

I angrily run both my hands through my hair and quickly shove my stuff into my bag, scraping my chair harshly against the floor as I push it back and turn to leave. Throwing five familiar words behind me, knowing they'll let her know how much it hurts me. 

 

“Tell Lucy I said hi.” 

 

Then:

 

I want to hold her hand. That's the only thing that I've been thinking about for the past half hour. She's sitting so casually in the lounge chair right next to me. It's a beautiful sunny Monday and if it weren't for the fact I'm spending it next to Lauren, I would be terribly disappointed that I'm spending it inside the library. I can't seem to control my wandering eyes as they trail over her every inch of her face and continuously dart down to her hands. The left one that's holding her book sexily in front of her face and the other that's lightly playing with a strand of her hair. 

 

I watch as the soft glow of the sun grazes her porcelain skin. The soft line and sharp ridges. I want to trace my fingers over her knuckles and the elegant bone that pokes out on the side of her wrist. More than that, I want to bring her hand up to my lips and just let it rest there, or place it on my chest and let her feel how rapidly she gets my heart to beat whenever she is near. 

 

I swallow thickly as I watch her bring her hand up to run through her hair slowly, her lips mouthing a sentence to herself. I bite my lip lightly for a moment before deciding to go for it. 

 

I hesitantly reach over and lightly run my fingertips along the side of her wrist closest to her, let them graze the inside of her palm before I encircle it in mine and slowly bring it over to me. I keep my eyes on the book in front of me, even though I can feel her eyes burning a hole in the side of my face. I've always been a go big or go home kind of person though, so I simply readjust my hand and tease her thumb with mine for a moment before I gently insert my fingers in between her own. I wait a moment to see if she'll pull away, and when she doesn't, I place our connected hands to rest on my chest and let her feel the song my heart plays for her. The rhythm it's written for her. 

 

This could be something. It says. Can you feel it, too? 

 

This could be something. Only me and you. 

 

Once I'm sure she's really felt how alive she makes me feel, once I know she has an idea of how my body is a livewire when she's around, pulled taut and ready to do something crazy at any moment. I bring our hands up and nuzzle hers with with my jaw, smoothing it over my lips and place the softest of kisses there. After a few seconds, I slowly bring our hands down and let them rest right underneath my chin, cradling her hand with my own, and reach down to turn the page of my book, sending her the unspoken message that I have no intention of giving her hand back to her. 

 

Somewhere along the way, she relaxes and turns her attention back to her book.

 

Even further along, I peek over and see the hint of a small tugging at her lips and I swear I never have to see the sun again so long as I can look at her. 

 

I'm hoping that someday you'll see all the things that we could be. I swear it's electric. 

 

Now:

 

I'm speed walking through campus, desperately trying to keep the angry tears at bay, finally understanding what it means to see red. I'm a fucking raging inferno. I swear if anyone comes too close to me right now, I would only destroy them, I would incinerate them. 

 

Lauren has always set me ablaze, but it was never like this. It was always a passionate flame, one that was just meant to keep us warm, but now it's an unstoppable forest fire, I'm doing everything in my power to not destroy everything in my past. I am done being a fucking spark, no, now it's time for me to ignite. I am so done being cut off, not being allowed to say anything. I am done watering myself down. No, I will no longer extinguish myself. 

 

I am so done here. 

 

“Mila?” I hear a voice call out from my left. Though, I'm far too consumed in the flames to stop and acknowledge them. 

 

“Woah, hold up, Walz!” they yell out now, their words simply getting swallowed up in the heat, any further words getting hidden behind the plumes of smoke. 

 

I reach my dorm room and slam my key into the hole, let the fire burn down the door and suddenly the only thing I want to do is erase my existence from this lonely fucking barren place that I've spent the last months condemning myself to. 

 

I throw myself flat onto my stomach and reach a hand underneath my bed, pulling out what I need, throwing them onto my bed and start pulling open drawers and scooping up my things from within them. 

 

I'm fucking seething. 

 

I frantically begin to throw stuff into one of the duffel bags I pulled from beneath my bed, not even bothering to fold any clothes or organize any personal items. 

 

“Camila?” I hear the voice quietly speak from behind me. “What are you doing? Why are you packing?” 

 

I bring a hand up and wipe harshly at the wetness I feel on my cheeks, not wanting the water to extinguish my flames. 

 

“I'm leaving, Dinah.” I mutter out. 

 

“What! Why? What the hell happened?” Her frantic voice rings out. I feel a hand land on my shoulder and I quickly push it off, not wanting her to get burned. 

 

I'm yelling now. “I can't do this any more! I'm fucking falling apart, and she doesn't even care!” 

 

“Lauren? What did she do?” Dinah sounds both confused and enlightened at the same time. 

 

“First she doesn't let me tell her, then she doesn't let me speak. Then-then… Lucy. God Dinah, why aren't I fucking heard? I get that I fucked up, but I'm a person. I'm a person and I'm human and I'm so broken,” My words begin to race the tears running down my face. “Why can't she see that? When she was broken I cut myself on her pieces when I helped put her back together. And all she's doing is stepping around mine.” 

 

“What are you-” I cut her off, needing to get this out. 

 

“I can't be here anymore! I am needed back home, Dinah. And yet I'm choosing to stay in a place that only hurts. Everywhere I look I see her! She is the love of my life and she can't even ask me how I am… My dad sent me back here so I can continue living my life, but I just feel like I'm dying here.” My chest heaves, my throat feeling like a chimney as the words escape from my mouth like smoke. 

 

“Mila,” Dinah begins hesitantly, “honestly, I think you should just tell her. Who fucking cares if she tries to interrupt you, speak over her. I am done watching her push you around like this, knowing that you're hurting and still keeping you in this weird place and calling it friendship. I love Lauren, but honestly she needs to grow the fuck up. Yes, you left. And ignored her. Completely dropped off the face of the earth for a couple months. Yes, that was fucked up and she deserved better.” I wince at that, knowing how bad it was. 

 

“But now you're here and anyone with eyes can see that you're hurting. Can see that you've been through some serious shit. But you're still here and you're trying. You're fighting so hard for her and she's just letting you. She's ignoring your pain and only focussing on her own and that is so selfish. Especially when she's doing it to someone she loves. This game she's playing isn't cute and it's time you speak up for yourself. She has a right to be mad at you, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't be a decent human being. She said she wanted to be friends with you; well friendship means being there for one another when shit gets tough.” 

 

“I don't think I want to be friends with her, Dinah. It hurts too much.” I speak out quietly. “I thought I could, but I'm too fragile to sit around and watch her be with someone else.” 

 

Dinah sighs deeply, shooting me a look of sympathy. “So either go tell her you want another chance with her, or tell her you're done. Because you deserve better, Mila. You have been there for that girl through thick and thin. Unfailingly. You deserve the same in return. You at least deserve the benefit of the doubt, she should know that something serious had to have happened for you to disappear like that. But above all, she knows how much it hurts you to be silenced, you don't deserve to be censored.” 

 

I stare at the floor for a moment, knowing she's right, but terrified to put my heart on the line. What if she breaks it again? I'm not sure I could handle it. I don't know what to do. 

 

It's Dinah's next words that make up my mind for me, and suddenly I'm running out the door with only one destination in mind. 

 

“I honestly think now's your last chance, Mila. I asked her and-well, she's not dating Lucy, but she's thinking about it. If you still think she's worth it, go get your girl before someone else does.” 

 

_____________

 

I don't count the knocks I bang onto her door. I don't care if there are four. I don't care if I do it an odd number of times. All I care about is finally speaking up about what I want, finally being heard. Dinah was right, it's time I speak up because it's one thing for people to censor me, but it's something else entirely when I censor myself. I'm fucking done doing that. Fuck what Lucy says, what she thinks. This between my love and I. 

 

The door is pulled open, I immediately drop my hand and push past surprised green eyes, not stopping until I'm in the middle of her room. 

 

“Camila?” Lauren's confused voice fills the air. “What are you doing here? I-I thought you were mad at me-” 

 

“I love you.” I blurt out, forcing myself to stand tall. Not letting myself be deterred when her jaw drops. “I love you, Lauren. I fell in love with the broken girl in our Psychology class that hurt me countless times. I fell in love with the pieced together girl that I would scoop up into my arms and hold until the glue holding you together dried. I fell in love with you and I chose to continue to love you, even when it was so hard for us to hold those pieces together. I'm not perfect, and I never claimed to be. But even when I was gone, I have loved you. I never stopped.” I shake my head at her, heart pounding and hands shaking. My soul laid bare for her to see. I grow nervous when I'm met with complete silence. 

 

“Laur, please, say something.” I beg. Terror rushing through my body when she takes a deep breath, one I know means she's trying to build her walls up as high as they could possibly go. 

 

“It's just… Maybe there's a reason why you left. Or I guess, why you were able to leave. Because if you loved someone -really truly loved someone- it's the hardest thing to willingly leave them. Maybe it was just supposed to be this way. Maybe getting this close to one another was a mistake…” Lauren says, eyes downcast. My heart twists painfully, but I focus on the fact that it sounds like she's trying to convince herself more than she's trying to convince me. 

 

“Lauren... “ I begin “I may not have all the answers, I may get tongue tied in the most important moments. Which is saying a lot, since I'm a damn motor mouth. But. God. I'm a very strong believer that whoever is meant to be in your life will always gravitate back towards you, no matter how far they wander. I wandered away. I'm human Lauren, I'm faulted and I make mistakes. Meeting you wasn't one of them, leaving you was.” I take a deep breath, everything I've wanted to say finally easily coming out. 

 

I step closer to her, my tone hushed yet sincere. 

 

“I love you. I've loved you since you glared at me for that first time. I've loved you since you went off on professor jackass in that damn psych lecture over a year ago.” Lauren laughs quietly at that, drawing a smile out of me. 

 

“I loved you more when practically everything i did surprised you. God lauren, I want to spend my life knowing how you are.” 

 

She looks up at me at this, eyes filling with tears. Casting a layer of shine onto her galaxial eyes. Beauty at it's finest. I continue trying to convince her. Maybe this is the day she comes back to me. Or the day that I lose her completely. I just need to know where we stand. Where we're going. If we can even go anywhere. I just can't keep on standing still. I'm too broken to continue as we are, and she's worth me giving this one last shot. 

 

“I love you okay? I need you to be happy. I need it. I've spent this past month trying to get you back, but maybe I just need to let you go. Let it go. Everyone always talks about how they want what's best for their other half… but what we fail to acknowledge is, sometimes that means accepting the fact that often we're not what's best for them. But, if you think that you're better with me than without, please tell me. Please. Can you just please not focus on the one mistake I made, and instead focus on all the things I did right. I'm begging you Laur.”

 

I reach for her hand, hope filling my body. Maybe this is it, maybe we'll finally be okay. 

 

Our hands graze and all at once I see her eyes harden and her hand gets yanked from mine as if she's been burned. Hurt courses through my veins, my heart bursts with the pain and I swear my love spills out onto the floor. 

 

Maybe we'll never be okay. 

 

“No. I can't. I just can't. You fucking left Camila! You know how I am. How I don't trust people! I don't let people in for fucks sake and I let you in! I did and you left me. I won't open myself up to be hurt again. I fucking won't. You think that you can just leave and come back here and expect me to be waiting for you? You ignored my fucking existence for months. I think the fact that I'm willing to even be your friend is me being incredibly kind, after what you've done. You had absolutely no reason to leave-” 

 

Her words are gasoline. 

 

I finally burst. I've finally had enough. This time I'm not stopping myself from burning everything in my path. 

 

“My mom has early onset Alzheimer's!” I burst, the truth finally coming out. 

 

“Shes sick okay? That's why I left. Why I haven't been the same. I knew she was sick, I just didn't know how sick. My dad didn't tell me. He didn't let me know how bad it was getting. How much she was deteriorating. I would talk to to her every few days, that's when my dad would have her call me. Every few days because that's when she was lucid. When she remembered who I even was.” I grit my teeth and look away from her surprised face.

 

“One day she called me and immediately I knew something was wrong. You had just left my room. It was an amazing day, Lauren. I had you in my arms. We laughed. We talked. It was all I ever wanted. And then you left for class and she called and she started telling me how much she loved me and that she hopes I find an amazing guy one day. A guy who loves me the way I deserve to be loved. A guy for me to share my life with. A guy that would make me the happiest i'd ever been. She said that that was her dream for me. For me to experience that kind of true love. And that she always imagined me getting married to him and having kids and just being happy. And it killed me because she wanted me to be with a guy and here I was so desperately in love with a beautiful girl… and I wasn't ashamed. I wanted her to know. I wanted her to know that I was the happiest I had ever been.” My face twists up in pain, my heart clenching as I recall what happened next. 

 

“So I told her. I told her that I was in love with a girl named Lauren and that I finally felt whole. And at peace. And loved. And listened to. That she let's me speak and genuinely wants to hear what I have to say… The next thing I know she's starting to scream and then… then she's choking, Lauren. I didn't know what was happening. I could hear my dad's panicked voice, but no one was telling me anything… she had a heart attack. The fact that I was with a girl stressed her out so much that it gave her a heart attack.” 

 

I shake my head, staring into space as I continue, not being able to look at Lauren's horrified face as I tell her this. 

 

“Later he told me the truth. About how sick she really was. How bad her condition had gotten. The only thing I could think about was that I was so selfish. My mom was disappearing and I didn't even know. I was at school… happy. Happy with my love and happy with how my life was. And I didn't know that my mom was suffering. Every time I thought about you after that… I felt sick. Sick because even just looking at you made me incredibly happy. I didn't think I deserved that. So ignored you.” I shrug helplessly, looking up at the ceiling. 

 

“I know that was wrong and I know that I hurt you deeply, but I didn't know what to do okay. I didn't know what to do. I'm too young to be this hurt. To feel like this. To feel this kind of pain. I didn't know what to do so I freaked out. I panicked and just… reacted. I finished finals and then went home. I would hide my phone so I didn't have to see how much I was hurting you. I thought that if I just stopped us right there. Didn't say anything, but didn't end it, I could go home and deal with that. Hope that my mom would be okay and then come back here and maybe things would be okay here too.” I blink back tears, shaking my head at myself, at how naive I was. 

 

“I know it was stupid okay. I know. But I needed to make myself believe that if I froze us how we were, that we could possibly be that way again. But I needed to be… Straight when I went home. I needed to make my mom happy. I needed to give her what she wanted. I couldn't be selfish anymore. She wasn't lucid when I got back. She didn't remember me telling her about you. So didn't even recognize me. She would just look at me and say that I reminded her of someone she used to know. But that I was very pretty and I would have guys knocking down my door for a chance with me. Even not knowing me she wanted me to be straight.” 

 

I hug my arms around myself as I continue, forcing myself to meet her eyes for this next part. “So I had Shawn come over on days that she was semi there. He pretended he was my boyfriend to make me happy. We never did anything though. I would never cheat on you. Even though now I know that to you we broke up. To me we didn't. You've always been my love. My one. I would never even think about anyone else. It was just for show. To make her happy. I know I messed up. I ruined us. And i'm so sorry for that.” 

 

“Camz-” Her voice shakily rings out, it sounding wrecked and full of remorse, but I bring a hand up to silence her. I stand up straighter, attempting to gather my composure. Its finally all out in the open. The reason. All I've wanted since I left was for her to take me back, but now all I want is to be treated fairly for once in my damn life. I don't deserve this. Maybe she isn't worth it… 

 

“You don't get to treat me like this. I deserve better. I am not a bad person and I deserve respect. I know you're hurt. I know. But that doesn't mean you can treat me how ever the hell you want. I am a human being and I am so much more than my one mistake. How could you judge me for one thing and totally disregard me as a whole? I can't believe how easily you can dismiss all the things ive done right. All the times i've stayed and was patient, how could you forget all of that and not even give me a chance when I mess up one time. I deserved more. I deserve the right to be treated better.” 

 

“Don't ever say that we're a mistake.” I continue, voice much calmer, looking at Lauren to see her completely frozen. “Coming from someone who can't even walk a straight line without tripping or… Or leaves the love of her life in an attempt to give her mom what she had always wanted, even though she wouldn’t remember ever wanting it. Coming from someone who is an expert at making mistakes, believe me when I say that this… us, is the furthest thing from a mistake. I've been smitten with you for far too long for this to even be considered a mistake. I reacted in a knee jerking away in a moment that needed me to react calmly. I understand that, I understood that a little too late, but when I did, I gravitated back.”

 

I wipe a tear, running a shaky hand through my hair. I can't keep on doing this. I know I made a mistake, and I know that when you make a mistake like this one with a person like Lauren, it's way bigger than with anyone else. I know that, but just because I made a terrible mistake, it doesn't make me a terrible person. She couldn't forgive me, but I finally forgive myself. Maybe I deserve to be treated better... 

 

“I - I didn't know about your mom Camz… Oh my god, I didn't know that's why you - you left-” Lauren say’s, all the color draining from her face, she reaches for my hand and I immediately yank it back and I look at her in disappointment, this is what it took to get her to listen? She actually thought I just left her for the fuck of it. Does she really think I'm that type of person? Wow… 

 

“Lauren… I don't deserve this. I didn't deserve to be shut out like this. To be kicked when I was already down. To continuously be kicked. A couple months and you're running to Lucy? Really? You were it for me and I thought you felt the same about me. But a couple months and you're ready to move on? And telling her all that shit about me? The least you could do is be upfront with me about how you want me to leave you alone.” I look at her incredulously. 

 

“I know you didn't know why I left, and that was my fault in the beginning, but you wouldn't let me explain after. I'm a good person. Ot at least I try to be. We as humans often forget that we get to decide whether we leave a person better or worse after meeting us. The type of impact we make on them. I've tried to make sure you're better off knowing me, I've tried making up for a bad decision I made. And you have the audacity to treat me as if this one mistake defines who I am, I don't deserve that. You've been pulling me around for months now. Having me work like a dog to win you over. I give you space when you ask for it and I'm attentive when you decide you want me around. We are not a mistake. We were not meant to turn out this way. But you made us turn out this way. You belittled everything we had. I fucked up. I never once acted like I didn't. But you treating me like this? that's you fucking up.” 

 

I didn't even know I was this mad until I began speaking, began letting myself acknowledge how she's been treating me. God dammit. I don't deserve this. Dinah was right. Ally was right. I deserved acceptance and forgiveness, not resentment and humiliation. I deserved a chance. I'm done. 

 

“I can't do this anymore. This back and forth? I'm done enabling you to treat me like this.”

 

“Wait, Camila-wait I didn't know. I-I thought you didn't care, I… I thought you were doing to me what everyone else in my life has done to me… oh god I'm so sorry, baby-” 

 

Fuck no. 

 

“Don't you dare call me that, especially not after how you've been treating me! I took all your crap and made excuses for you whenever you treated me badly and the one time I mess up, you throw me away? Fuck no, get the fuck out of my way. And do me a favor and stay the hell away from me.” I bark out, anger consuming me. I cannot believe this is who I've loved. I am done being treated like I'm lesser. 

 

“Wait no, please lets just talk about this.” her voice is frantic, borderline hysteric, but I can't even stomach looking at her. I'm done being stepped all over. I head for the door, but Lauren throws her body in front of mine, both her hands held palms forward, trying to stop me from leaving, but there is no convincing me this time. 

 

I'm done. 

 

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way.” 

 

It's funny how things change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That happened. That wasn't how this chapter was supposed to go but I swear it had a mind of it's own. It just happened. It's longer than usual, but that's because so much happened. Welcome to the climax my friends. This is where the whole game changes. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! Comments motivate me to write. Also, how would you feel about seeing things from Lauren's point of view? I was thinking of switching to hers for a a chapter or two. Let me know!


	12. Chapter 11

Lauren:

I was eight when my dad left. 

I remember sitting on the queen sized bed in my parents bedroom, my legs swinging back and forth as I hugged my stuffed bear in my arms, clutched it to my chest as I watched my dad quickly pack his things into suitcases. I would bite my lip to keep the questions from spilling out because I knew if I asked him where we was going, he would get mad and I really didn't want to go into the closet again. Last time he wouldn't let me take my teddy bear in with me and I cried for hours before I fell asleep hugging a sweater to my chest. 

That was the week before he left.

I quickly learned not to speak when not spoken to or to take up too much space in front of my dad. Mom would tell me it's not my fault, it's just his temper and that he was working on it. But when my mom opened the closet door later on that night and found me curled into a ball, she got really mad and I remember sitting in my room as their voices battled it out in the other room. By then I knew to sing a song to myself so I wouldn't get too scared or too focused on the things they said. 

I always fell asleep with a song on my lips and my bear between my arms. 

I had watched as my dad zipped the bags closed and shrunk into myself when I saw him scan the room for anything he might have missed. I wanted to ask so badly why he was packing, but I was so scared to bring attention to myself. Attention was never a good thing, I had learned. I was both glad and afraid when dad met my eyes, I remember how wide my own had gotten and for a moment I had seen a flash of anger in his, but he simple released a deep sigh and walked up to me. 

I had taken that as a good sign and decided to voice one of the many questions I had running through my mind. 

“Daddy… Where are you going?” My timid childlike voice had rung out. I was going to ask where we were going, but something in me knew that wherever my dad was going, I wouldn't be going with him. 

He release a sigh so deep, I questioned how a person can hold so much air inside such little lungs. How a person can be weighed down so heavily by a weight that wasn't tangible. I wanted to place my little hands onto my father’s chest and ask him to inhale, just so I could feel them expand for myself and discover whether or not he releases any of his burden with his deep exhales. 

I never got to do that, though. 

“I’m leaving, Lauren.” Was what he said. In the entirety of my eight year old life, I could count on one hand, the amount of times he said my name in a tone devoid of hatred and contempt. 

That was the fourth. 

I remember allowing myself to act on my never ending curiosity in that moment because even if he brought down his thick belt onto the sensitive skin of my back or locked me into that dreaded closet, I knew it would be the very last time. I felt I had nothing to lose. Except for him, that is. And even at such a young age, I know that wasn’t much of a loss. 

“Why are you leaving, daddy?” My little voice spoke out into the stilled air of our two story house - house and not home. 

Michael Jauregui took a moment and simply glance around the room, seeming to question whether or not he wanted to be honest or make a lie act as my truth. 

I don’t know which he chose, all I know is he decided to tell me something that forever changed me. Something that was told to me for the very first time, but surprisingly not the last. 

“Because you’re not worth me sticking around. You’re not reason enough for me to stay. I’m tired of having to know how you are.” I remember this moment with such vibrant clarity, I swear I can still hear the sound of my heart shattering within my little chest. 

That was the very first time my heart had ever been broken. 

He placed his large hand atop my head and stroked it once, before he turned on his heel and took large strides out of the room, out of the house, and ultimately out of my life.

I sat on that bed, just staring at the place where my father once stood, until my mother came home and asked me where he was. 

My answer? 

“Daddy didn’t love me.” 

_________________

 

I was eleven when my mom dropped me off at my aunt's house and never returned. 

By this point, I knew that people were fickle and at the end of the day, they only cared about themselves. I had just never thought that my mother would do the same thing that my father had done, but I guess I should be grateful for the fact that she stayed three years longer than he did. 

Clara Jauregui wasn’t always a bad mother. I have fond memories of her rubbing icy hot lotion onto the sore welts my father left on my back. She was very tender with her touches and she always asked me how I was. Afterwards, she would tuck me into her side, being extra cautious of the angry lashes painted on my pale skin, she would stroke my hair and sing songs until the tears stopped cascading down my cheeks. 

I mean, she still let him beat me, but back then she never laid a hand on me herself.

Key words being back then. 

After my father left us, it was apparent something in her snapped. I remember watching her posture drop, she folded in on herself in a way I had only see chairs do. I didn’t know that a person could have light in their eyes until I saw it leave hers. 

I was only eight, but in that moment I knew that my father took my mother with him when he left. 

She loved him, he didn’t love me, and I loved them both. 

At such a young age, I also learned what unrequited love was. 

The stinging slap of leather was replaced with a harsh heavy hand. And if I’m being completely honest, I always longed for the leather, because at that point there was no one left to gently apply the icy hot, and I can’t say I cared enough to put it on myself. 

I still sang myself to sleep and I still clutched that bear to my chest, except this time it was to drown out the sounds of my mother's choked sobs and bourbon glasses shattering on the wall that separated my room from hers. 

Bourbon was my father's favorite. 

It was a Tuesday when she loaded me into her car without a word, I had a feeling what was going to happen. I can still hear the zipping sound my duffel bag made when she closed it up. I didn’t know it was filled with my clothes, but it was obvious enough because if she was the one that was leaving, she wouldn’t have had me in the car with her. 

She sang on the way to my aunt's house. She sang for the whole hour it took to drive there. I like to think it was her little parting gift to me, maybe an apology for the abuse I had to endure. 

For a very long time after that day, I wished I had told her she didn’t have to sing me to sleep and she didn’t have to rub icy hot onto the parts of me that hurt, just please don’t leave me. I would play it in my mind over and over again. 

That’s when I learned what wishful thinking was. 

If only you could rub icy hot on your heart, that was the only part of me that I acknowledged hurt after that day. 

It ended with a bony hand being placed on my head, a soft stroke of my hair and a quick knock on the door of the unfamiliar house looming in front of me. 

I whispered out, “I love you, mom.” to her as she walked away.

She didn’t say it back. 

_______________

I was seventeen when I met Lucy. 

She sat next to me in my religion class and she always shot pretty smiles my way. I never returned them, but that didn’t stop her from giving them to me like she thought I deserved them. 

For a while in the beginning, she simply remained nearby, acting as a silent companion for me. It became apparent to me that she was aware of much more than I initially gave her credit for. I didn’t know what went on in her life, but at the time I was sure it was something similar to what I was going through. In the seventeen years of my life, I had never encountered someone so heavily weighed down by a burden unbeknownst to me, to anyone, but still freely gave away the little parts of herself that she had left. Or at least, the parts of herself she knew she could live without. 

She never asked me how I was, but in a way I think that’s because she knew I wasn’t okay. Just like I never asked her, because I knew she had wounds that never got the chance to heal before they were reopened yet again.

We had much more in common than we were willing to admit, the only obvious one being our pain. 

It was pretty apparent when I only ever wore long sleeves to hide the finger shaped bruises scattered along my pale arms. Still, I had wished someone would just ask me about the haunting ache that was always deep within my gaze, maybe then the three simple yet complex words would no longer burn the back of my throat. 

I’m not okay. Three words that left third degree burns. It always came back to three little words. 

Lucy never told me how she really felt about me. Not when I refused to smile at her. Not when she was finally able to pull half ones out of me. Not when I learned how curious of a person she was. I had never met someone who could talk about metaphysics and energy, could seamlessly jump to people and society, just to emphatically rant about war and communism. I had always stopped her when she touched on violence and love, but I had never met someone who lived with every ounce of their being. And most of all, I had never met someone who told me that I held my soul in my smile. 

She never told me how she felt about me, but the way she kissed me told me enough. 

I knew in the way she swallowed thickly and the slight tremble I could see in her hands as she cautiously attempted to frame my face within them. I didn’t let her, as they were too reminiscent of my mothers hands coming down on my face in the past. Lucy’s hands were very similar in size to that of Clara. Still, I let her kiss me because a part of me came alive when she was near. Not nearly enough to break the numbness I had surrounding me, but enough to make me feel something that wasn’t negative. 

A part of me knew she loved me, but I didn’t love myself nearly enough to let her. 

I guess I didn’t need to know how to put icy hot on my heart because I was doing a good enough job numbing it myself. 

Maybe if she had asked me how I was, would I have thawed enough to let myself love her back. But she never did, so I never would. 

I ended it when I was eighteen. I had developed an even stronger aversion to being touched and I began to loathe the seventeen muscles it took for her to smile. So I stopped letting her love me. She never asked me why. I think she feared what any of my answers would’ve been. 

I no longer sung myself to sleep and I didn’t hug my bear to my chest, my mother didn’t pack it when she sent me away. I didn’t block out the yelling and the shattering glass. I didn’t cry with every punch my aunt and her husband sent my way. I didn’t apply icy hot. No one ever asked me how I was.

And I stopped asking myself. 

I guess violence ran in my family.  
__________________

I was nineteen when I met Camila. 

There had been no one else since Lucy, I could no longer stomach touch and though I was finally away from my family, the pain they inflicted on me followed me all the way to NYU. I wasn’t looking for anyone to pull me out of the darkness I had let consume me, but as fate would have it, she found me. 

I was an empty shell and she was so full of light it surprised me because I thought people could only carry it in their eyes, not their whole entire body. Right away I knew she was something else. Something I had not experienced in my life. Where Lucy made me feel the slightest bit alive, Camila infused my entire body with electricity. She made me feel everything all at once. 

I had become accustomed to glaring at anyone who so much as looked at me, and then here comes this unashamed girl, constantly surprising me when her smile never failed to grow impossibly bigger when I shot them her way. 

For some reason her gaze didn’t burn when it landed on me and her smile didn’t make me want to vomit. I found myself wanting to feel her jaw as it moved and trace the curve of her lips as they did something I had always hated. 

That scared the complete crap out of me, so I did what I did best. I froze her out, I made a very conscious effort to make her think I wasn’t interested. It worked for a while, but then she had to be persistent and constantly asked me how I was. In those moments, something in me broke and I knew that this girl, this girl with the warm brown eyes and the very soft smile, was going to make me fall in love with her. 

If Lucy was able to coax a half smile out of me, Camila was able to pull out a happiness so deep rooted within me, one that was so fulfilling, that I had forgotten what it was to feel empty.

Suddenly, I had someone who sang me to sleep - and while she didn’t use icy hot when she stroked my back - her touch was enough to erase every bit of hurt my body had endured. I no longer clutched a bear to my chest, but Camila held me tightly to her own. I didn’t have to fall asleep to yelling and glass shattering, but to her gentle lullaby and the calm beating of her heart as I rested my head right above it. 

I started to love touch again. 

I didn’t consciously let myself love her because it wasn’t something I had power over. I loved her despite how much I did not want to. I loved her with every last piece of my shattered heart, and then I loved her some more when it was longer in pieces. I loved her and she loved me so much it was impossible for me not to love myself because if someone as amazing as her could feel that way about me, there just had to be something in me worth loving. 

My father didn’t love me. 

My mother didn’t love me enough.

Lucy didn’t quite know how to love me. 

But, Camila. 

Camila loved me with a reckless abandon. 

That is, until she left me. 

_________________

I didn’t think it was possible for the light to go out of Camila’s eyes. 

I thought with a person that emanated so much of it, that there was an endless supply, but when she revealed to me the real reason for her abrupt departure all those months ago, I swear her supply ran out. 

Or maybe I just drained it all with my endless darkness. 

I spent years wishing I could’ve stopped my parents from leaving me, but in that moment I knew that I could handle the holes they left in me, but I would never survive the void Camila’s departure would leave.

I could no longer numb myself because her presence is so much stronger than icy hot would ever be. 

I’m twenty years old and I’m finally learning what regret really feels like. And I finally know how my mother felt when my father left us and how a body can fold in on itself. 

I am a chair. And I can no longer unfold myself. 

It’s been thirty seven minutes since she rushed past me - or should I say through me - and I can’t seem to get my legs to function. Can’t seem to stop the shaking in my hands to still long enough for me to even dial her number. 

I hurt her, and I don’t think it’s possible for me to come back from this. 

A part of me had known that gluing myself to Lucy’s side for the last couple of weeks was a terribly immature move on my part. I knew that it would hurt Camila, and in some way it gave me a sense of satisfaction; knowing she hurt similarly to how I hurt when she left me. When she left, I reverted to the Lauren that I was before I met Camila. One that was so consumed in her pain that no one else mattered. 

I feel sick to know that I memorized her schedule just so I could know exactly where she passed frequently and at what times. It was very easy to get Lucy to stick by me and meet me wherever and whenever I asked her to. 

She still doesn’t quite know how to love me, and now I wish she had ran far away from me when I initially ended things with her. She didn’t deserve to be used like that. 

And now I know, Camila didn’t deserve the hell I put her through. 

She didn’t deserve the harsh comments. Didn’t deserve the flirty texts I sent her, just to give her the cold shoulder when I saw her in person. She didn’t deserve it when I rubbed someone I knew made her terribly insecure, in her face. And she especially didn’t deserve it when I sent her that text telling her I needed time and I would appreciate it if she stayed away from me for a while. 

I knew that would make it sting even more when she would see me gallivanting with Lucy all over campus. 

I run my shaky hands through my hair and grasp at the roots from my place sat on the floor of my room and I am overcome with complete revulsion towards myself. I am disgusted with the person I have let myself become. I am not sure how I went from a girl that loved Camila so much I would have done anything to keep my favorite smile on her face… to someone that intentionally hurt her in any way I knew how. 

I should have known she would never abandon me without a completely valid reason. Yes, she should’ve talked to me about it as I would’ve done anything I could have to help her get through it, I completely understand why she reacted in the way she had. 

I know how much her mother means to her. 

I sob exceptionally loud when I recall how badly I had treated her, not knowing how much pain she’s been enduring quietly. And yet, she still allowed me to use her as my own personal punching bag.

I never deserved that girl. 

She may never forgive me, and rightfully so. 

I know how far past her limit I must have pushed her, for her to actually explode on me like that. Camila was never one for confrontation. 

I drove her to that. 

I will never get her shattered eyes out of my eyes, will never stop comparing them to the impossibly vibrant and warm ones she looked at me with on that very first day I met her.

Maybe I don’t quite know how to love Camila. 

Or better yet, maybe I don’t know how to love myself. 

_____________________  
________

Then - Lauren:

Camila was lost in her thoughts, again. 

By this point I knew to simply stroke her arm and leave her to her musings. I knew she would share them with me when she pulled herself out of her own mind. 

Not for the first time, I wish I could explore the deepest parts of her beautiful mind. I want to draw up a map of all the places she goes when she’s stuck up there. I want it to become my home. If nothing else, I wish I could hold her hand and explore it with her, just so she didn’t have to get lost within it on her own. 

Realistically, I know that could never happen, so I settle for sticking by her side as she ventures it on her own, patiently waiting for her to complete her voyage and come back to me. 

She always comes back to me. 

I love when she goes on and on about the simplest and most complex things, I could listen to the sound of her voice for house, days, years. Forever. It’s become my favorite sound in the world, closely followed by the sound of her heartbeat, that is. 

I love her. I love her so deeply, it scares me. It terrifies me to know she could decide I’m not worthy of her love, get up and walk away. I know if that were to happen, she would take with her the last bit of humanity I have within me. I’ve been hurt so frequently and so deeply in the past, I could not withstand another heartbreak. 

And yet, knowing she has the power to destroy me, I still can’t find it in me to pull away. I can’t shut her out and I most definitely cannot leave her. I was gone for her from that very first moment she smiled at me and asked if I could move my bag for her to sit down. 

She could destroy me and I have to admit it to myself, I’d let her. 

I’m trusting that she won’t, she deserves that trust from me. 

I sigh deeply and let Camila’s sweet scent engulf me, I snuggle myself impossibly deeper into her side and tuck my head deeper into the space directly below her chin. This is where I feel the safest, in this little nook that I believe was designed solely for me. 

Camila’s arm tightens around my shoulders and I don’t have to look up at her to know she’s smiling the smile I know is reserved for me. It’s my happy place smile, and it still surprises me to feel like I’m the luckiest girl in the world. It’s like everything that happened in the past no longer exists, it’s all been wiped clean and I can’t ever imagine ever looking back.

Camila makes me hopeful for my future. For our future. 

With a small grin, I ask the same question I always do. The question that I know means the same to her, as “how are you” means to me. A question I will always ask her because I know how much she spent her life wishing someone would ask her. 

“What were you thinking about?” 

I can’t even fathom a world where this girl isn’t in my life, and I hope I never have to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite sure how I feel about this story anymore. I'm feeling very insecure about parts of it, and that's why this update took so long. I definitely want to finish it, but I might go back and add to certain parts and take others out. With that being said, thank you all so much for the kind comments, they motivate me to keep at it and I am so grateful so many of you like this story. I hope you liked this chapter and that it gave you some insight as to why Lauren is the way she is. Let me know if you guys want to hear more from her, or if you want me to stick to Camila's side.


	13. Chapter 12

**Now**

 

Quite frequently, I think about the Camila that I was this time last year. Someone who was so enraptured by anything that gave off an intriguing vibe, someone who went out of their way to give everyone she encountered a smile, simply because she wanted to make sure that person got at least one smile that day. Someone that had love pouring from every breath she took, and still had plenty to spare. I inhaled affection and exhaled adoration. I was a girl that waxed poetically about the rain and a certain sparkle Lauren Jauregui had in her eyes when she ran around in it. 

I was a girl that loved to be happy. That loved to trust, simply because I believed people were inherently good and had such great potential. 

I was a girl who fell in a love that was so soul crushingly raw, so heartbreakingly damaged, that it cut into me with each and every inhale I took that matched her exhale. It made my hands shake, my heart bend and break, and it gave me just as much as it took. 

I was a girl. Now, I’m a broken girl and I don’t know what to do about it. I take a look at myself in my mirror and I can’t help but to hate what I see looking back at me. The base of who I am is still here, but it looks as if everything on the inside has been drained out. Overlooking the deep smudges of black that now seem perfectly etched underneath my chocolate eyes, there is now a haunted look lying within them, something that screams ‘I’ve been hurt and now I’m not quite sure how to breathe.’ 

Everything I do now seems a little muted, a little fuzzy around the edges. One thing that is a surprising new development though, is the anger I can feel bubbling in the pit of my stomach. An anger I don’t think I’ve felt since I learned my Father had been lying to me about my Mother’s condition. Except this time, it’s directed at someone I had only felt love towards since the moment I got a peek inside her harsh exterior. 

I am so angry at Lauren, I am sincerely afraid to open my mouth, just in case it begins to spill out. 

I cannot fathom how she could be so cold toward me, after I have spent the last year loving her with every ounce I had within me. 

Releasing a deep sigh, I walk back towards my bed and glance down at my recently abandoned phone, letting myself hesitate for half a second before clenching my jaw and grasping the cold object in my shaking fist. 

Lauren’s name takes up the entirety of my notifications. I find myself rolling my eyes before I even think about it and am surprised because I had only known tender smiles when seeing her name appear on the screen. 

I don’t think I’ll ever get over how quickly things can change.

Deciding I have absolutely nothing to lose, I begin to scroll through her messages. 

**Lauren (4:22 P.M)**  
**Please talk to me, Camz. I’m so sorry.**

_Delete._

**Lauren (4:36 P.M)**  
**I honestly had no idea… Can you just give me a chance to explain?**

As if you gave me one. 

_Delete._

**Lauren (4:39 P.M)**  
**Please.**

**Lauren (5:01 P.M)**  
**Are you at least safe? I called Dinah and she said she doesn’t know where you are… she went by your room and no one answered. Please just let me know.**

Yeah, because I was busy crying angry tears and trying to refrain from pulling my hair out from the roots. A part of me is upset that Lauren didn’t come to my room herself to check up on me, but I quickly roll my eyes at myself for that utterly pathetic thought, I go back to angrily swiping through her messages. 

**Lauren (5:36 P.M)**  
**You’re not going to answer my calls any time soon, huh?**

**Lauren (5:52 P.M)**  
**I don’t know how to fix this, please just tell me how to fix this.**

**Lauren (6:24 P.M)**  
**Camila**

**Lauren (6:45 P.M)**  
**I’m so deeply sorry.**

**Lauren (6:59 P.M)**  
**I can’t get that look I saw on your face when you pushed me out of the way, out of my mind. I hate myself for making you hurt that much…**

**Lauren (7:36 P.M)**  
**I don’t know if you care, but there is nothing going on with me and Lucy. I admit, I was using her to hurt you and I feel disgusted with myself to know that I stooped so low. I could never feel for her what I feel for you.**

**Lauren (8:03 P.M)**  
**Okay, Dinah said you were safe in your room. Thank god.**

**Lauren (10:42 P.M)**  
**I’ve missed you every day, every hour, and every minute. It pissed me off that my happiness seemed to have become directly correlated to yours and once you left I didn’t know how to breathe without you, so when you just showed up at my door a couple months ago, I reacted so badly. I know that. I wanted to hurt you for hurting me. You deserved better than that. You earned a better reaction from me. You deserved the benefit of the doubt. Acting like I hated you, that was the only reaction I knew how to have. Anger is my default… but you were the one that taught me how to access all the other options I had. You taught me love and happiness and want… sadness… longing. All I can feel now is pain and guilt, Camila. And love. I can always feel the love that I have for you. I am so sorry that I let my pain blind me from seeing yours. But that never meant I stopped loving you, baby. Please just talk to me. I know we can work this out.**

**Camila (11:56 P.M)**  
**I’m not your baby.**

_Delete all messages?_

_Delete._

I swallow down the overwhelming urge I have to throw my phone at my nearest wall. Instead of inciting love and understanding within me, her words simply add more fuel to my nearly overflowing anger. Does she really think I want to hear about how she used Lucy to hurt me? Why in the hell would I want to know that the person I love so deeply, wanted nothing more than to hurt me. My phone dings, indicating I have another message from Lauren, I glance at the word _please_ and quickly delete the message before I could read it in its entirety- also because I don’t want her to the have the satisfaction of knowing I’m reading her messages. 

I was a fool to think I had met the person I would spend the rest of my life with, at such a young age. Nothing ever quite works out for me, so why would the universe suddenly decide I deserve an unprecedented happiness. I roll my eyes at myself when I recount all the times I greeted people with an extreme amount of exuberance, hopeful someone would look on at me with adoration instead of distaste. I was so hopeful, and look at where I am now. If there is one thing I’ve learned about hope, it’s that it only seems to breed eternal misery. 

Yet again, I’m sat here feeling utter contempt for myself, for the person I am. I’ve been told countless times that the people who contain this level of compassion and understanding, are destined to live a life being misunderstood themselves. My father always told me that loving this much only means I’ll live a life filled with loss. To which my mother would say, oftentimes loss is even greater, simply knowing that at one point you had something worth losing. 

I should have listened to my father, I wouldn’t be this hurt if I hadn’t loved so deeply to begin with. 

I’m too young to be this hurt. 

I move to sit down on the floor, with my back resting on the side of my bed, allowing my head to fall back and rest on the mattress. Resting my hands atop my knees, I stare emptily at my barren ceiling, imagining there are galaxies swirling overhead, daring them to suck me in and take me away from a world that hurts so much. Maybe if I wish long and hard enough, I’ll get pulled up and made into a constellation. For the rest of eternity, fragile girls and boys will look up and pick me out, finding comfort in the story of a misunderstood girl who finally found a companion in someone who seemingly understood her so well, even her silences told stories, but then had her heart so badly broken, she begged to become a cluster of stars, just so she could live within the cosmos that remind her so much of the eyes that belonged to her love. 

If a writer falls in love with you, you will never die. I hope Lauren's prepared to live forever because at this rate, I'm going to fill novels with the curve of her smile and the raspy tenor of her voice. I've written about love and loss, I guess now it's time to write about anger and deception. I finally understand why Lauren took her coffee without sugar, she had to find some way to replenish the bitterness she held within her heart. 

Maybe it's about time I took a little less sugar in my coffee. Or maybe it's time I switched to tea. 

All I know now is I could use a little less heartbreak in my life. 

A little less Lauren in my life. 

Many people like to say the person they loved felt like sunshine in their arms, that they brought a certain warmth to their lives, one that resonated within their very souls. Lauren never felt like sunshine in mine. She felt like rain. Each and every drop was a shock to my system, one that kept me alert, kept me alive. She felt like I was grasping a little storm right in between my arms, her lightning crackled, but never stung and her thunder shook me to my core but was never deafening. Her very presence was alluring, one that screamed danger but drew you in anyway. 

The thing about storms though, eventually you get caught within them, swallowed whole and oftentimes you have to wait them out, in order to make it out alive. 

I’m done waiting her out. I can be a storm, too. 

A ding snaps me out of my reverie and I unlock my phone to see what Lauren sent me now. And for the first time, her loving words don’t give me butterflies nor do they make me swoon. They make me angry, yet again. For once I don’t hold back or stall to think twice about my actions. I’m so done being cautious Camila. She’s not the only one that can be a poorly wired circuit. I can be a little messed up too. 

**Lauren (1:35 A.M)**  
**You’re my answer.**

**Camila (1:36 A.M)**  
**Yeah well, now you’ll know how it feels to have questions.**

_Block Lauren from sending messages?_

_Number Blocked._

 

___________________  
______________

 **Then- Lauren**

She feels like sunshine in my arms. Or better yet, she’s the sunshine that surrounds me as she holds me within her own. For some unknown reason, she just emanates a warmth that is able to thaw out the ice I have had surrounding my heart ever since the first time it was broken. I always thought having my own personal sun would burn me, scorch me with it’s heat, but I don’t think Camila could ever burn me. She has the suns rays leaking from her smile and dancing within her eyes. 

I never really liked the light, seeing as I have always had very sensitive eyes, but now I can’t get myself to look away from the one she emits. Lately, I’ve been finding myself wishing I could spend the rest of my life basking in Camila, soaking up every last drop of warmth she’s willing to give me. 

She’s dangerous. With every smile she gives me and every laugh she’s able to draw out of me, I can feel myself falling more and more in love with her, and that is downright terrifying. I want to believe that she could feel the same way about me as I do her, but the idea itself baffles me. Someone as beautiful - both inside and out - as her, couldn’t possibly love someone as damaged as me. 

I only know how to hurt and she can only love. How can those two possibly ever mix?

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Camila’s raspy voice speaks out, making me smile simply at the sound of it. 

That’s another new thing I seem to do a lot of recently; I smile. I smile all the time when I’m around her. I even smile when I’m not, just thinking about her invokes this giddy feeling from deep within me. 

She’s dangerous. 

I shift a bit in her arms, tilting my head up so I can look into her eyes and flashing her a teasing smile when green meets chocolate brown. 

“Isn’t that my line?” 

Camila smiles cutely at me, her tongue peeking out between her teeth, teasing me, making me want to tug on it with my own and pull it in my mouth. 

That’s something else that terrifies me. 

She has yet to kiss me. 

It’s become one of the only things I can think about, as of late. It’s been a month since that day I asked for her forgiveness in Slow Sip Abyss. A month since I asked her if we could take this slow. I just never thought things could go this slow. And I never thought I would- could want it to move faster. 

It’s been a month and all we’ve done is cuddle aggressively. 

On top of all her amazing qualities, she just has to be this gorgeous goddess with a glorious jawline and eyes that literally make me want to stare into them forever.

And don’t even get me started on her body… 

I’ve never liked touch all that much, but I find my hands tingling with the need to touch her. And surprisingly, to have her touch me in return. 

All at once I realize I’ve been staring at her plump pink lips and that they’re moving, indicating she’s speaking. 

“Lauren?” 

“Yeah?” I huskily ask, tucking my lip between my teeth right after, and I fill with glee when I see her eyes track the movement closely. 

“What were... “ she coughs nervously, “um, what were you thinking about.” 

I feel the corner of my lips tug up into a smile and I can’t stop myself from being honest with her. 

“You.” 

Camila’s eyes widen slightly and her jaw drops a fraction, eyes darting from left to right as they study my own. After a moment of this, I swear I can see something click within hers and her eyes soften as her shoulders sink in what seems to be relief. My own sinking in relief as well, simply because I’m glad whatever has been plaguing her seems to have been resolved. 

I never want her to worry. 

I see her swallow thickly and I kink an eyebrow up in question.

“What about me were you thinking about?” Camila asks quietly, almost timidly. She brings her face closer to mine, and now I’m the one to swallow thickly, clenching my jaw to refrain from pulling her lip between my own. I’ve never wanted someone so much in my life, and I’m starting to like the fear that accompanies that feeling. I like feeling like I have someone worth losing. 

“Just… how you make me feel.” I respond slowly, enunciating each word, and leaning in a fraction of an inch further when I see her tongue poke out to lightly run over her bottom lip. 

“How do I make you feel?” She reaches her hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, then trails the tips of her fingers softly down to my jaw, her eyes swallowing the path her hand takes with rapt attention. 

I pull her body in closer, wanting to feel it pressed up against my own, I shiver when her stomach presses up against mine and her legs moves to slot in between my own slightly. I then reach my hand up to run up and down her arms slowly, wanting to feel as much of her skin as I possibly can. I’ve never cared for a person so deeply that just skin on skin contact can bring me happiness. 

I think this kind of happiness is the most pure.

Her existence is the most pure. 

I just hope I never taint her. 

I look deeply into her eyes and in a voice so overcome with emotion I can hardly recognize it, I give the only answer I can right now. 

“Camila, you drive me crazy.”

I see a hint of a smile appear on her lips and she shakes her head slightly, but somehow I know it’s not at me, but at herself. 

With a nervous tremble apparent in her bottom lip, she leans in further, allowing that same trembling lip to lightly graze my own, but stops before they can come into contact fully. I almost groan in frustration, but Camila speaks very slowly, lust thickening her tone, and I can feel my heart quickening in my chest, pounding so harshly I’m tempted to place my hand over it, in fear it’ll try to burst out and jump into her own chest, where it seems to think it belongs. 

“You drive me crazy, too.” She says, and all my self control flies out the window as both my hands shoot up to grasp at her jaw firmly and finally pulling her face the rest of the way to mine, her lips connecting with my own perfectly. 

I slide my right hand to the back of her neck, entangling it in her thick luscious hair desperately, needing her closer, so much closer. I feel her hands encircling my waist tightly, Camila seeming to have the same issue with needing me impossibly closer. I run my tongue along her lip slowly and feel more than hear the low groan that escapes from the back of her throat as she grants me entrance. I hum when my tongue is met with her own, loving the taste that is so inherently Camila. My left hand grasps her jaw, my thumb moving to pull her bottom lip down as I disconnect our lips so I can watch the sluggish movement, before connecting our eyes and slowly moving in to pull it between my teeth, tugging it lightly before releasing it softly. 

“Fuck.” Camila mutters as she brings both hands up to grasp my cheeks and pull me back in so our lips crash together once again. 

I hope we always crash into one another. 

I allow my hands to slide down her body and come to a stop when they reach the delicious curve of her hips, before I can control myself, I pull her on top of me, encouraging her to straddle me. Camila moans slightly at the feeling, but then I feel her hand move to my collarbone and she uses it to push herself back slightly.

“Wait, wait Laur.” She mumbles, her pupils blown from arousal and hair sexily mussed. 

“What’s wrong?” I question her, using my elbows to push myself up a bit, needing to close the distance between us once again. 

Camila slowly licks her lips and starts to lean back into me, but then squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and laughing slightly at herself, muttering a ‘fuck’ once again. I can’t stop a small smile from pulling at my lips as well, and I rapidly dart in to peck a small kiss on her lips before she can stop me. A light blush colors her cheeks and she brings her other hand up to my collarbone as well so she can push herself up further into an upright position. 

“God you’re so sneaky… but we should stop, babe.” She informs me, with a stern look. 

“And why would we do that?” I question her lowly, raising my eyebrows expectantly, bringing a hand up to run through her hair slowly. Camila shuts her eyes at the feeling, her hands clenching my shirt slightly. 

Swallowing thickly, “Because… because we decided we were going to take this slow…” 

I nibble on my bottom lip for a moment before responding slowly, “What if I want to speed things up a little bit?” 

“How much is a little bit?” She asks hesitantly, obviously afraid to take things too fast and scare me away. 

“Enough to stay in this position and continue…” If it’s even possible, Camila’s eyes darken further and she mutters something that sounds a lot like ‘you’re going to be the death of me.’ and then she’s clenching my shirt harder in her fists and using it pull me into her once again. 

I never thought I’d love the way the sun feels on my skin this much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!  
> I hope you all are having a great week.


	14. Chapter 13

**Now - Lauren**

“Fuck… fuck… fuck…” I mutter to myself as I pace the expanse of my room over and over again, continuously running my hand through my hair as I inwardly scold myself for how horridly I’ve managed to screw things up with Camila. I pull my phone from my back pocket and once again dial her number, hoping to every god out there that she will finally answer.

What does she mean by, now I’m going to be the one to know how it feels to have questions? 

“C’mon Camz…” I squeeze my eyes shut when it only rings once before informing me that the person isn’t accepting calls at this time. 

She blocked me. The most accepting and forgiving person… the one that is so afraid of confrontation her hands shake and her first instinct is to run far away… the sweetest person I’ve ever known, blocked me. 

“She’s done with me.” I say out loud to myself, my knees buckling at the realization, just enough to make me reach for my desk in order to keep myself standing upright. I’m finally realizing that even though I’ve acted as though Camila does not mean much to me, as though I was over her sudden departure, I had still held onto the hope that we would someday be okay again. That there could be some completely valid reason for why she left me the way that she did. That was a big part of the reason why I had not wanted her to explain why she left, because a part of me knew that it was for something important, that she really did love me and that I could forgive her for doing it. And I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay angry at her. More than that, I wanted a reason to be angry with her. A big part of me had believed that she was just too good to be true. That someone like her couldn’t really exist. I mean, how could she? How could anyone be that selfless and so inherently good? Looking back at it now, I had been waiting for her to mess up, for her to prove to me that I couldn’t have a happy ending. 

I didn't think I deserved a happy ending.

My biggest mistake was that I didn’t take her feelings into consideration. I failed to take her happy ending into consideration. All because I didn’t believe I could _be_ her happy ending. 

Now, all because of me, we both may not get one. 

“Oh god, I’m so selfish…” I groan out to myself, rubbing my eyes harshly with the heels of my palms.

I pace the expanse of my room a few more times, nibbling on my lip in thought. What do I do now? She obviously doesn’t want to talk to me, so that pretty much cancels out going to her dorm. I could always call Dinah…

I wince when that thought crosses my mind, knowing I’ll be met with one of her infamous poly beatdowns. She’s probably dying to beat the absolute crap out of me, I knew she was pissed when she found out I had been hanging out with Lucy so publicly, I think she knew I was just using her to make Camila jealous. 

Goddammit I really am an asshole. 

I contemplate calling Ally and asking her for help, or at least a hug… 

But then I remember the look she gave me when she saw me forward Camila’s call last week, and then when I simply read the text she had sent me right after asking if I wanted to grab coffee with her, Ally was very disappointed when I left her on read. 

I’m pretty sure the whole entire campus knows why I can’t call Lucy… 

That only leaves one person, even though I promised myself I would no longer involve her in my drama, I really need a friend right now. 

With a deep rooted sigh, I run a hand through my hair and hesitantly scroll through my contacts until I reach her name, pausing for a moment, I think about the broken look on Camila’s face when she kicked me out of her room and with a wince I force myself to press call. 

I have to fix it... 

It rings three times before the call goes through and her familiar voice reaches me. 

“Lo! How are you, girl? It’s been forever.” 

I smile a bit at the pleasant surprise I can detect in her voice. I really don’t deserve a friend like her. 

“Hey, I really need your help…” I sigh into the line, only to be met with silence for a good ten seconds, before she answers, concern now coloring her tone. 

“What why, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Mani…” I start, my voice trembling. “ I really messed up this time and I don’t think she’s ever going to forgive me.” I say, my voice terribly choked up with the tears threatening to spill over. 

Normani pauses, but I can hear ruffling on her end and what sounds like the jingling of keys, before she speaks up again. “... I’ll be there in ten. We’re gonna figure this out, Lo.” 

I may be a sucky person sometimes, but for some reason I have a few people that seem to genuinely care about me. I vow to myself in this moment, I will never neglect my friendship with Normani Kordei ever again. 

___________

 **Then - Camila**

“Go on a date with me.” 

Lauren blinks at me in surprise, mouth opening and closing multiple times. I can detect a slight tinge of fear dancing in her emerald eyes, but I am pleasantly surprised to find that she seems to be restraining herself from running away. 

_Progress._

I smile slightly before nodding my head in understanding, “I’m not like asking you to be my girlfriend or anything, but I do want to take you out. I want to treat you to something special. Just one date, and then we can take it from there.” 

Lauren takes a deep breath, most likely going over the last couple of weeks we’ve spent hanging out, getting to know each other slowly. I can only hope she is about to get on the same track as me. The one that could potentially lead something real. We have gotten lunch four times since we decided to take things slow, and coffee twice. We have also gotten to know one another on something that is at least just below a surface level. 

I’m slowly but surely figuring out when to lightly push and when to retreat before she flees. 

I guess people do learn in college. 

“What- um what did you have in mind?” Lauren swallows thickly, nervousness filling her tone and I can feel her hand shaking from where I am lightly playing with her fingers. But she’s not pulling it away, so I know I don’t have to retreat yet. 

I smile softly, hoping it reassures her. “Usually I would try to surprise you, but I know how much you hate surprises because they make you anxious, so I’ll disclose my super secret date plans.” I tease and inwardly fist pump when I see I’m able to pull a small smile out of her. 

I continue, hoping the butterflies I feel flying around in my stomach don’t fly out when I open my mouth. “I was thinking we go to slow sip and pick out a book for each other to read, and then we could get some hot chocolate to go and take a walk around central park and watch the sunset together, then I could take you to my second favorite spot. If you’d like, of course.” 

I have more to my plan, but I do like to keep at least a little bit of an air of mystery. 

I can see her eyes light up at my words, and I know I’ve caught her interest. 

“So…” I lightly prompt, silently urging her to take me up on my offer. I don’t think she knows how much I’ve been dying to take her out on a date, how much I’ve been hoping I’d get this chance, to show her what it looks like, what it feels like to have someone want nothing more than to make her happy. 

If hot chocolate, books, and long walks in the cold do that, then I’ll gladly drink, read, and walk every day for the rest of my life. 

Lauren release a sigh and shakes her head slightly as she looks into my eyes, but I’ve learned enough by now to know that that doesn’t mean it’s a no. 

So I simply smile and wait for her to speak. 

And when she does, I’m very glad I’ve learned to wait and listen. 

“Okay.”

I cannot contain my glee and have to hold back a squeal of excitement.

“Okay?” 

Lauren finally flashes me her gorgeous smile as she nods softly, “Yes, okay. I just really hope you don’t make me regret it, Camz.” 

Her nickname for me makes me melt, just as it always does, and I can't keep my voice from softening. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” 

I can’t, she’s just too important to me.  
___________

 

 **Now- Camila**

“Hey, um- you’re Camila, right?”

“Oh shit!” I say in surprise, flinching slightly at the sudden voice, bring a hand up to clutch at the material of my shirt directly over my heart. I’m forced to turn my attention away from where I was previously brooding, staring off into space, wondering how I possibly got here. How my life veered so far off course, I don’t even see a road in sight. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry!” A sweet voice rings out. I look up and find a very attractive girl, her hands held out apologetically, “I'm Ariana, I didn’t mean to scare you, I swear. We have English 186 together and I’ve just been wanting to talk to you for a while now, but you always bolt from the room before I can even come close.”

My jaw is slightly dropped as she bites softly at her bottom lip, the action exposing two very deep dimples and I almost want to groan out loud at how terribly attractive this girl is. Which is very surprising because of how utterly uninterested I’ve been when it comes to girls that aren’t Lauren. 

This attraction is new and I’m not quite sure how I should take it. 

I clear my throat and work my jaw slightly back and forth, trying to get it to actually form words. I haven’t had to speak to pretty girls for a very long time and I’m starting to realize I may be a little off my game. 

Not that I _want_ anything with this girl, I’m just not ignorant to how gorgeous she is. I can’t seem to find anything to say, so I simply nod my head at her in answer to her first question. Her eyes dim for a moment --most likely from my non verbal answer-- before they brighten once again.

Damn, those dimples. 

“I know this is a little weird, seeing as you’ve probably never noticed me. But I haven’t been able to not notice you…” Ariana flashes me an unsure smile and I find myself surprised to find her endearing. I haven’t found anyone interesting in that way since… 

I open my mouth, then close it, deciding that I should probably stand so this introduction is a little less awkward, and a little less rude on my part. 

I’m halfway there when Ariana says, “No, no… I’ll come to you…” She brings both hands up, palms facing me and quickly drops to her knees. 

“I just -uh. I find you really attractive, and even though you don’t speak much- when you do, god I… I just find myself wanting to hear more. I was uh- wondering if we could hang out sometime? Maybe grab some coffee? I would really like to get to know you, Camila.” 

Suddenly I’m getting flashbacks of a girl that thought and said the exact same thing, felt the exact same way. A girl that only thought in positivity instead of being utterly pessimistic. I'm not the same girl I used to be and it wouldn't be fair to show any interest in anyone while I'm so messed up. I find Ariana very attractive and her interest in me very flattering, but I am in no way ready to invest myself in anyone else right now…

I sigh getting ready to let her down, “Listen, I’m extremely flattered-”

“Wait, “ Ariana interrupts, mildly wincing when she realizes that may have been rude, but plowing on anyway, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I could tell you were going to shoot me down, which is definitely okay and very much your right, but I would like the chance to plead my case, if you’ll allow…” 

She trails off and I can feel my cheeks heating under her blatantly calling me out, I can’t help but to smile bashfully at her confidence, it's very rare to find someone that doesn't get upset when you turn them down. And I'm getting the feeling she's one of them, what with how polite she's being. I also can’t stop my interest from being piqued at her insistence to win me over. So I find myself nodding at her to continue. What do I have to lose? 

Ariana smiles at me excitedly and once again I can’t stop myself from smiling in return. “Great! Okay, um here we go... so- so I know something is… hurting you.”

My smiles slowly drops. 

She continues tentatively, maintaining eye contact. “I’m not going to intrude, and I’m not going to push for details, but I believe in full disclosure, so I need to say that I know you’re having a rough time. And I know that may mean you won’t want anything serious or even anything new… but I would like the chance to take your mind off of whatever it is? To show you that someone as beautiful as you, both inside and out, should not have to be sad alone. Should not have to hurt alone.” Ariana finishes lowly, honesty dripping from her mouth. 

I’ve always been a sucker for honesty. I begin to wonder if I should take her up on her offer, why shouldn’t I allow myself a little fun? Allow someone to take a little bit of the weight off my shoulders, someone who actually wants something to do with me, who isn’t as damaged as I am or as… she is. 

I think I’m allowed a little bit of happiness… 

Ariana continues, "I'm not typically this forward or this interested without actually knowing someone, but something in me is saying that I have to try, I have to get to know you or else I'd be missing out on someone great. I know that's a lot, but you can take it in whatever way you want. I can be a great friend, if that's what you want, but I would like the chance at being something more, at least eventually, at whatever pace you'd like."

I am genuinely surprised at her words, completely out of my element because I've never had someone try to know me, so entirely interested in me as a person. 

I'm not gonna lie, it's extremely pleasant, despite it being so foreign. 

When did I stop taking chances? 

“Okay.” 

Ariana’s eyes widen in disbelief for a split second before her face breaks out into a full blinding dimpled smile. 

Wow. 

“Okay?” She asks happily. 

It’s nice having someone look so happy just to talk to me. 

“Yes, okay. You get a chance, make sure you don’t waste it.” I flirt lightly, feeling good that I’m able to have a little bit of fun again. 

Ariana’s cheeks color a little bit and she bites her lip lightly, obviously catching onto the meaning behind my words.

“Oh trust me, I've never been one to waste a chance. Can I get your number?” 

Maybe this will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's been an extremely long time, but college has been kicking my ass and I just haven't had the time to update. I know this is kind of short, but I've already started on the next chapter so hopefully it won't take nearly as long as this one did. 
> 
> I hope you liked it!


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I felt really bad for leaving you all hanging for so long last time, so here's a quicker update and twice as long as it usually is.  
> As usual, let me know what you think! I hope you like it.

**Now - Lauren**

 

It feels as if my safety net has been pulled out from underneath me, and now I’m stuck on this tightrope forced to either continue forward or fall to the ground. 

Or it feels like someone reached into my chest and tried to pull out my heart, but they stopped when it was halfway out, so now it’s attempting to work even though it isn’t in the correct position and it’s undergone a tremendous amount of trauma. 

I’ve spent a huge chunk of my life missing people. I’ve missed my dad and the love he never had for me and then I missed my mom and the love she couldn’t save for me. Then I missed myself; the me that I wasn’t allowed to be, wasn’t allowed to remain. My innocence. My hope. My optimism. I am no stranger to the painful throbbing that lives in my chest, reminding me something is missing and it will forever remain so. Reminding me that pain is inevitable and people are destined to break you. 

Being used to it, however, has not prepared me for the pain of missing her. 

And the pain of missing her has not prepared me for the pain of knowing I made myself lose her. 

When she left me over the summer, it felt like someone poked holes in my lungs so every time they tried to inflate with air, they’d stop and shutter, the air leaking out, enough to hurt me and make daily tasks almost impossible to complete, but not enough to kill me. I remember the sound of my own cries when I realized she was gone and that I probably wouldn’t see her again, the way I clutched at my chest and slowly slid to the ground, needing to make myself smaller. 

For a second, I was that child locked in that closet, trying to push myself as far as I could go against the wall, afraid of the darkness surrounding me, afraid to would somehow find it’s way inside me. I still wince when I think about it, and when I dwell on it, I can still feel the distant throbbing in my chest, the fear burning my throat. 

I never admitted it out loud, but that day she showed up at my door, I felt such a rush of happiness, relief, and need. A need to be in her arms, a place that always made me feel safe, something touch had never given me before she came along. 

I wanted that safety back, that comfort. I wanted her back so badly that instead of accepting her and asking for the explanation I had been creating and recreating in my mind all summer, I responded with anger. I was furious because I trusted Camila to love me. To never hurt me. To be my safe place… my safe harbor… my home. And then she ripped herself away from me, she completely rattled my life, upended everything she had helped me build. And I wanted to be angry with her because then I didn’t have to think about how much I still loved her. 

I couldn’t love her. Not anymore. Not when she revealed to me just how much power she held over me, how much I had truly come to love her, come to care for her. 

She tethered me to her. After she learned that I had been set adrift at such a young age, she promised she would make sure I never had to feel that way again, at least not with her. For Christ’s sake, she taught me how to look up when I spent my entire life being told to always look down, to bow to those that looked down on me. 

She taught me to look up and take in the world in all it’s entirety, so I would know that there is beauty out there, I just had to look for it. But then she left me and everywhere I looked, I saw her face. I looked at the sun and I felt her arms wrapped tight around me. I felt the breeze and suddenly I was taken back to her running her hand through my hair in the way I had only ever done to myself. I couldn’t even listen to music anymore because I found myself trying to match the rhythm with the sound of her heartbeat as we fell asleep together. 

She saved me and then she ruined me. 

So I used that to justify treating her however the hell I wanted to, but then I kept her close because I did still love her and I definitely didn’t want her to disappear again. I saw her pain, how something had changed. The light in her eyes that I had come to adore so quickly had been dimmed and drained. Her smiles were a only a fraction of the shining beam she would make sure to flash at everyone she came into contact with. 

I knew she was hurting, but I am terribly ashamed to say that I went against my better judgement and ignored all the signs. I acted as if her pain was not there. I did the worst thing I could’ve done because I knew Camila always looks at others pain before her own, always puts it on the backburner. I knew that she would be slowly dying inside, but still- still I ignored it in favor of my own.

I didn’t think I could achieve a new level of hatred for myself, and yet here I am. 

She deserves so much better than me. Better than I believe I can be. 

I knew I would come to hurt her, I just wish I had proven myself wrong. I wish I had held her to her own standard instead of the one I was taught by my family. The moment I realized she would not be coming back, I couldn’t help but to continuously flash back to all the moments I had cried myself to sleep alone. Except, for some reason this time was the most painful because I hadn’t chosen my parents, I was just dealt that hand. But with Camila, I let her into my life, I allowed myself to open up to her because I genuinely thought she would never hurt me, I saw the amount of care and love in her eyes and I knew I would be safe with her. I knew my heart would be safe with her. I trusted her in the most innocent of ways and she broke my heart. 

I didn’t know how to handle that, and I admit I handled it in the worst possible way. 

I don't think I ever realized how my actions can affect the people around me. How they can hurt the people that love me. And ultimately, how they can change the people that care about me. 

I think I’ve changed Camila, and I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for all the damage I’ve done to such an amazing human being. Lately, I can’t stop thinking about every time I may have made her doubt herself, or censor herself in any way. Every time she ignores my texts, I get flashes of the girl who would leave cups of coffee outside of my door with little messages. Every time she forwards my calls I think about all the times she would answer me on the first ring. And after the very first glare she gave me today, I can’t help but to think about the blinding smile she gave me on that very first day in Psychology all those months ago. 

I never meant to cut her on my broken pieces. 

I never thought someone so sweet, could have a point in which that sweetness runs out and only contempt exists. 

I never knew Camila had a malicious side, one that is satisfied by hurting someone else. She always felt nauseous at the thought of hurting another, so I assumed she just didn’t have it in her, at least I didn’t until today. 

_-_

For the first time in a very long time I’m keeping my eyes to the floor as I walk to my next class. I don’t look up and admire the changing colors of the leaves in the trees or the way the sun's rays bounce off the green of the grass. I don’t look up because nothing could even come close to being as beautiful as the last smile Camila gave me before I did what I’m so good at doing. 

I hurt her deeply. 

I squeeze my eyes shut tight when I get a flash of the shattered look in her coffee colored eyes as they realized I wasn’t as good as she initially thought I was. 

I’m not good. I hurt when I should love and I bite when I should smile. 

The funny thing is, now all I can think about are the ways I could be better… love her better. Treat her better. I make lists to occupy my time, lists of the things she loves and the things that make her smile. And I make plans for dates I wish I could take her on, but I know I’ll probably never get the chance to. 

I remember the first time she held my hand, how my initial reaction was to recoil and rip it away. No one ever tried to hold my hand before, at least not in the innocent way she had, how her fingertips softly ran down my palm and tickled my own, how she very softly and very slowly traced my palm with them, almost tickling me with them. It was sort of like a dance if you really think about it, the amount of care she put into such a seemingly innocent action. It was almost as if she had been playing that moment in her mind for a long time, rehearsing it so as to get it perfect. 

I recall the way my heart sped up when she was not in the least bit deterred by my slight flinch, how she just went slower and very cautiously aligned her fingers with my own, almost as if to compare the size difference of our hands. Then she very slowly started to fit her fingers in the spaces between my own, but stopped before they could be fully intertwined, and that's when I figured out she was waiting for me to finish the action, she was once again giving me full control of our pace. 

When I think about Camila, when I remember our life together, I don’t think first about the usual big things, big adventures we had, all of the fun we had -- and trust me there was a lot -- I think about things like the first time she held my hand and our first kiss and the very first time she asked me how I was and sincerely wanted to know. I think about all of these “little” things because for me they were firsts; they were firsts because no one in my life had ever treated a first hand hold as a dance or a first hug as a song. 

It’s the little things that are killing me. 

If I think hard enough I can just about hear her laughter right in front of me. All echoing and carefree- 

“Ari no stop!” My head snaps up when I realize I am actually hearing her laughter and her voice. She’s a good fifteen feet away from me, some girl is behind her with her arms around her stomach and is playfully swinging her around. I’m just about to run up to them and tear her off, my initial thought that she’s hurting Camila, but then I see it. 

It’s like a ray of light and I can feel if warming me from here.

Camila is smiling. 

Full on beaming and it’s not at me.

I can’t move, can’t breathe. Can’t even hear anymore, at least not over the sound of my pounding heart as it pumps with anxiety. She’s looking at the girl, Ari I think, is what she called her, and I recognize the look on her face, The slight smirk that reveals the small dimples at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes, those are her seductive eyes. 

She’s flirting with her. 

There’s nothing tender in her gaze or in the way she’s holding herself, but she’s definitely flirting with her, using her assets to her advantage.

She wants her. 

I can’t breathe. 

Camila glances in my general direction, purely instinctual, but then she seems to realize what she had seen and does a double take, her eyes landing directly on me. 

She make eye contact with me and for a split second, for the shortest moment, I swear I can see a little bit of worry when she see’s what I’m sure is a heartbroken expression on my face, but it’s gone before I can latch onto it and dissect it. Her expression hardens and I can’t help but to take a step back when she levels me with a glare that I’m sure is scarier than mine. 

She makes sure to maintain eye contact with me while she slowly reaches down and claps her hand with the girl next to her and then leans down slightly to whisper something in her ear, her heated gaze still not leaving my own shattered one. 

Tilting her head up slightly, I can see the left side of her mouth curling up slightly as she narrows her eyes at me. 

All I can do is send her my most pleading gaze, one that begs her to just wait, to stay. To just talk to me. 

To please not leave me, not again. Not now. 

Camila stalls for another few seconds before she links her arm with the girl and turns on her heel to walk away, turning her head to the side and laughing. 

Laughing at me? Maybe. 

A small breeze hits the side of my face and makes me aware of the tear tracks cooling. I’m crying and I didn’t even know it. 

_Do you hate me?_

Because I kind of hate myself. 

I never meant to invalidate her feelings, now I want nothing more than to validate every single one she has ever or will ever have. 

I just don’t think I’ll ever get the chance. 

 

___________________  
________

**Camila**

With shaking hands I push open the door to my dorm room for the first time in three days, sighing when I repeat the number in my head again, feeling anger that it’s been that long since I have been in my supposed safe space and that long since I’ve seen Lauren. I spent the last three days crying on Dinah and Ally’s couch and letting them spoon feed me ice cream while we binge watched Friends. I’ve been avoiding my room because I knew Lauren had been coming by my room, waiting to catch me and talk to me. Or at least that’s what Dinah told me from the times I sent her over to pick up some of my things. 

She said she ran into Lauren sitting on the floor outside my door, two coffee’s in hand from our coffee shop. I didn’t want to hear much, didn’t want to risk my heart fluttering or my anger receding. And yeah those two things did happen for a moment, her green eyes and her smile flashing into my mind, but then I felt the familiar throbbing in my chest and I quickly reminded myself of how much she hurt me and I was comforted by the immediate warmth of my anger. 

I’m starting to enjoy the forest fire that rushes through my veins at the thought of her.

I didn’t allow Dinah to finish, and did not ask what her and Lauren talked about, but I could see that she struggled with keeping it to herself. I think Lauren managed to sway her a little bit and I’m fine with that, I know they are friends too, but that doesn’t mean I want to be swayed. 

I’m allowed to have limits and enforce them when they’ve been pushed. I get to be upset and I get to do what I need to do to put myself back together. 

It’s not like someone else is going to help me fix myself. 

I sigh when I catch sight of my half packed duffel bags. Thrown carelessly around from my half baked plan of running away. Running a shaky hand through my hair, I begin to unpack them and place my clothes back into my dresser. I’m halfway done when I step on something and the crunching of glass startles me. Looking down, I see that I’ve broken a picture frame and groan out in annoyance that there is yet another mess for me to clean up. 

There’s always another mess for me to clean up. 

I crouch down and begin to carefully pick up the large pieces of glass, being extra careful so as to not cut myself on the shards. I grasp the flipped over picture in my other hand, the blank side of it facing me and turn it over as an afterthought. A smiling picture of me and my mom stares me in the face and my shoulders sink in defeat as tears fill my eyes. 

My mom is beaming at the camera and I’m kissing her on the cheek, a small smile visible from the small upturn of my lips. A small sob rips itself from my throat and the next thing I know, my shoulders are shaking violently from the cries I’m trying to suppress. I remember the day like it was yesterday, I was set the leave for my very first year of college the following day, so my parents took me out for a day together. All of my favorite places were on the itinerary and then we watched the sunset from a nice picnic in our favorite park. 

My dad had just cracked a joke when he pulled out his phone and demanded a picture of his two favorite girls, my mom looked so happy that I could not help but to kiss her on the cheek, something I knew she loved. She would say it made her feel appreciated and special. 

Now she doesn’t remember that was something she once loved. 

I can feel my expression crumbling as the pain comes full force, as it hits me that we will never have a day like this one, ever again. 

She will never remember that she once loved me. 

“Fuck!” I curse in surprise when a sharp stinging emerges in my left hand, looking down I see that I grasped the shards of glass a little too hard and it nicked my palm. I stare at the blood for a moment and bring the back of my other hand to rub at my forehead for a moment, frustrated that I can’t seem to do anything right anymore. 

An abrupt knocking at my door startles me further and adrenaline immediately pumps through my veins; there’s only one person that comes to mind that would manage to show up at my door within the same hour that I’ve returned to my dorm for the first time in days. 

I shakily rise from my position on the floor and move to dump the pieces of glass into the trash can, and then rise onto the tips of my toes to look through the peephole. 

My eyebrows rise up in surprise when I see that it is not Lauren at my door, but Ariana. Nibbling on her bottom lip and looking incredibly nervous. 

I look down at my hand and quickly wipe it on the back of my jeans, grimacing at the pain that jolts through it as it comes into contact with the denim. 

I cautiously open the door and Ariana’s eyes open wide in surprise, almost as if she were sure I wasn’t going to open it. 

“Camila! Uh- hi. Hey.”

I look at her curiously, “Hey, Ariana. What’s up?” 

She laughs nervously, “I know I should’ve called first, but I thought I’d just come over and ask if you wanted to grab that coffee we talked about?” 

I smile at her amusedly, but then furrow my brows when I realize something, “Wait… how did you know where I lived?”

Ariana opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, very much looking like a fish out of water, before she brings a hand up and nervously scratches at the back of her head, wincing slightly. 

“Well… I may have given one of the RA’s a little… gift… to find out for me.” 

I shoot her an extremely confused look, “A _gift?_ What kind of gift? And I mean - you could’ve texted me and asked or something.” 

Ariana sighs to herself in defeat, “I kind of, maybe, sort of, -brokemyphonesoIlostyournumber.” She rushes out, I frown when I don’t immediately catch what she’s said, but then relax when it sinks in. 

I chuckle for a second, shaking my head that this girl couldn’t just wait until she saw me in class to ask for my number again. 

“Well, I’m equally as flattered as I am suspicious since you still haven't explained what gift you gave an _RA._ ” 

Ariana flashes me a smirk, obviously regaining some of her confidence at the fact that I said I was flattered. 

“Well, how about I tell you all about it over coffee? My treat?” 

I ponder it for a minute, weighing the pro’s and con’s, but then decide why the hell not. I could definitely use the distraction. 

“Okay sure, on one condition.”

She smiles broadly at me, “Anything.” 

“We go to Starbucks. I’ve heard their iced teas are pretty good. Oh and let me grab a bandaid real quick, I kind of cut my hand right before you came.” 

 

__--__

 

“Woah, where are you taking me?” I manage out through a laugh as Ariana eagerly grasps onto my hand and starts speed walking along the sidewalk, only pausing long enough to send me a very teasing smile. Typically I would stop and demand she tell me where she’s leading me, but I can’t help but to like the rush of adrenaline that floods my body. It feels a lot like excitement and everyone knows that that isn’t something I’ve felt in a very long time. 

I have to say, I’m really liking where this is going. 

Although, that doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on her. 

I pull back a bit on her firm grip on my hand, slowing her down a bit, “Is this the part where you kill me? Or reveal your master plan to steal all my valuables?” I ask, holding back the smile that wants to pull at my lips, slightly loving the small pinch I can feel in my side from the fast pace she has been forcing us to have for the last few minutes. 

I’ve always hated exercise, mainly because of the fact that it causes me excruciating pain and makes me feel like I’m going to cough up a lung, but in this moment, the pain makes me feel good. It makes me feel alive, and after months of alternating between a severe ache in my chest or a dull numbness radiating throughout my entire body, I have to say, I’m liking the pain. 

Maybe I’m starting to like pain with my pleasure. 

Ariana turns around and walks backwards for a few steps to flash me her mischievous dimpled smile. I think this girl could get someone to rob a bank if she asked nicely enough. Either that, or she could possibly cure cancer with that smile, it’s so sweet. 

“Now, why would I reveal my master plan when I could just show it to you?” She says matter of factly, punctuating it nicely with a small smirk at the end. 

Did I call her smile sweet a minute ago? 

I really hope she doesn’t ask me to rob a bank. 

I’ve always been a little weak when it comes to pretty girls. 

I hum at her, clenching my jaw and feeling very satisfied when I can see her eyes track the movement. I never know how much fun flirting could be when you did it with no intention to fall in love with the person. When you do it simply for the rush it gives you in the moment. Simply because you’re young and you can. 

_I can be a little messed up, too._

And Ariana’s the perfect amount of kind and caring as she is reckless and daring. She encourages me to talk when she feels I may need it, but then backs off and takes me somewhere fun when I shut her down. She sits with me in silence if that’s what I want, but then talks to me about whatever show she is currently watching to distract me from the numbers constantly swirling around in my head, which I’m almost positive she’s caught me tapping compulsively on either my leg or the table. 

Our friendship is both surface as it is layers deep, and she lets me dictate which level we’re on depending on the day.

It’s only been three weeks, but it’s been three weeks without interacting with Lauren, and I have to say, they are exactly what I’ve needed. 

I know she’s seen me with Ariana, and I was surprised myself to find out it brought me immense satisfaction to see her upset by it. 

It’s never fun being the person questioning whether your ex is seeing someone else. And it’s even less fun having to see them laughing when you’re not the cause of it. I know this for a fact because she did the exact same thing to me for weeks. 

Except this time, I’m not doing it to play games and be petty, I’m doing it to have fun. To live a little. I’ve lived my life measuring every single decisions I make on the people around me. On whether it’ll hurt them or affect them or if they won’t like it. I’ve lived my life trying keep everyone around me happy, and that just left me alone and broken and abused. 

I’m twenty years old, and I am finally learning what it feels like to be reckless. 

And I have to admit, I like it. 

“Well, then you better hurry up and show me, before I decide to show you my own master plan.” I say back, smiling when she laughs lightly at my attempt to slow and deepen my voice, knowing I’m messing with her. 

Turning back around, Ariana mutters what I’m assuming is ‘this girl is going to kill me’ before she speaks louder, “Something tells me I’d like your master plan so much more than I’d like my own.” 

“I bet you would.” I snicker back at her. That’s another thing I’m enjoying. The incessant flirting between us. She’s the instigator for most of it, but I don’t make much - or at all - of an effort to stop or reign it it. I very much like the flowers she leaves outside my door along with the tea she brings to our English 186 class every other day, alternating between flavors every time and taking note of which I seem to like and the ones I don’t much care for. 

It’s extremely sweet and a very nice change of pace, seeing as I’m usually the one doing the… courting. If that’s what she’s doing with me. 

In those quiet moments while I’m laying in bed, my mind can’t help but to wander to Lauren -- or well, to Lauren’s eyes. 

Despite how hard I try, I can’t get that hurt look she gave me, out of my mind. It was almost as if she were using her eyes to beg me to stay, to talk to her. To work this out. And it was like something came over me because in the next moment I was flaunting Ariana right in her face. With the intention to hurt her, I wanted to hurt her, and I’ve never felt the need to hurt anyone in my life. 

Okay, maybe I’m being a little bit petty. 

All I know is my dad wouldn’t answer my calls that morning and I felt myself consumed with so many mixed emotions that they seemed to have morphed into an all consuming rage. 

All I feel is anger, just an ever constant fury bubbling just beneath my skin, ready to flow out and strike at any given moment. But in those quiet moments before I fall asleep, I can’t get flashes of green out of my head, and the only way I can even fall asleep is if I imagine I’m in Lauren’s arms. 

Then I wake up and I’m just angry all over again. 

“Okay come here.” Ariana’s voice breaks me out of my reverie, and I look up so see her stood right in front of a fence with a keep out sign on it, with her hands locked together in a foot step position. 

“What.” I say, jaw dropped and an immediate no flashing through my mind. “Hell no. Have you seen me walk? On an empty path, I still find something to trip over.”

Ariana laughs and glances very obviously at my ass, “Yeah I’ve definitely seen you walk. You’ll be fine, Mila. I’m gonna help you over.”

My eyes widen, “I’ll die!”

“You will not die, come on, It’ll be fun I swear.” Ariana pouts at me, knowing the action will expose her dimples and I find it pretty hard to say no to her when she does that. 

I hesitate for a moment before I release a groan that sounds frustrated but is really actually quite satisfied because my blood is pumping and my hands are shaking -- which isn’t abnormal -- but is in a way that is pleasant. I walk over to Ariana and bite on my lip for a moment, not knowing how to do this. 

Ariana chuckles, “Okay, so you’re gonna hook your fingers onto the gate and put your right foot onto my hands. I’m gonna push you up and you wedge your other foot into one of the holes and start to climb.” 

I look at her with my eyes wide and simply shake my head because that sounds exactly like I’m going to die. 

“I hate you.” I grumble, looking at my hand as if it’ll know what it has to do so I don’t have to. 

“Babe, you _like_ that you hate me a little bit. That’s why you’re so interested.” She winks at me and yeah -- I’m not sure if I like how right she is about me. 

I slip my foot onto her interlocked hands and follow her instructions, squealing when the next thing I know I’m at the top of the fence and freaking the fuck out. 

“Oh my god I’m going to die!” 

Ariana laughs joyfully at me, “Oh just hold on a second!” 

She takes a few steps back and in one fluid motion, she’s making her way up the fence and then comes to stop, straddling the top of it right next to me, very fucking attractively. 

Wow, I am so gay. 

 

“Okay, so I’m going to climb down and once I’m on the ground, you are going to start to climb down and I’ll help you… from behind.” She winks at me and I want to punch her just as much as I want to kiss the fuck out of her. 

“I hope I fall and suffocate you.” I grumble back, voice squeaking when the fence shakes a little bit.

Ariana lets out a surprised laugh and bites her lip, leaning a bit to the side to check out my ass, making me squeak out in fright when her movement unsettles the metal fence. 

“Mila, I would _love it_ if your ass suffocates me. I thought you’d know that by now.” 

I throw my head back and groan, “Okay, I’ll admit I walked right into that one.” 

She snickers for a moment and then easily throws her other leg over the fence and quickly makes her way down, landing on the ground safely a second later. 

She flips her hair back and throws me a very cocky look and yeah I’ll admit, it definitely gets me going a little bit. 

I guess I have a thing for assholes. 

Holding her arms open towards me Ariana yells out, “See it’s easy! Now, your turn!”

I whimper pathetically, but then take a deep breath, reminding myself that a big reason as to why I like to hang out with her so much is because of the crazy shit she encourages me to do. 

I try to copy what I saw her do, in an admittedly less cool and sexy way, of course. When I find myself hanging off the fence, I scream in both parts terror and excitement, Ariana puts her hands on my waist and pretty much lifts me off and sets me onto the ground, her laughter muffled in my hair. 

I feel warmth erupting in my chest and a surge of affection for the girl standing behind me. It’s feels really nice to be around someone that’s so… uncomplicated. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard.” 

I giggle and roll my eyes, softly elbowing her and then step out of her hold. 

“Shut your face. Now what is it that you wanted to show me?” 

The brown haired girl smiles and then quickly grabs my hand and starts pulling me forward. We run past a lot of metal shipping containers and then we start passing by some very colorful booths, moving too fast for me to read the signs. 

Before I know it, we’re at a stop in front of a cotton candy booth, in the middle of what I’m just now realizing is an amusement park or carnival of some sort. It’s very obviously closed or shut down. 

“Holy shit.” I breathe out, turning around to take it in. 

We’re so going to be arrested for this. 

But the thumping of my heart tells me that I don’t even care.

I turn to face Ariana, “What are we doing here?”

She smiles at me, her eyes gleaming mischievously. 

“We, Mila, are going to have some fun.” She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a little baggie, reaching in and pulling out a square tablet of something. 

I furrow my brows at her, “Wait, what’s that?” I ask. 

She places it in the palm of her hand and holds it out for me to see. “It’s LSD. I thought we could trip and have some fun here. I come here with friends a lot and it’s the best fucking time.” 

I swallow nervously, alarms going off in my head. I knew she smoked pot, that became apparent when she explain that the gift she gave that RA a few weeks ago was marijuana. I just didn’t know she messed around with the harder stuff and I’m not sure how I feel about it. 

I’ve never been one for alcohol or drugs as I know what it can do to a person.

It was never an issue because Lauren felt the same way about alcohol, because of her childhood… 

_But you’re not with Lauren anymore,_ I remind myself. 

So maybe it’s time I try new things… 

“Oh come on, Mila. I promise you’ll have fun. If it makes you feel any better, I can call Hailee, Selena and Demi and we can all do it?” 

I bite my lip nervously, knowing that this probably isn’t the best idea and that stuff like this can quickly become a problem, but. Ariana says it’s a good idea… 

“Okay.” I sigh out in defeat. She flashes me an excited smile and slips the tab into my hand, holding up a finger for me to wait as she pulls out her phone and sends out a text. 

“Alright, I messaged the group chat and… okay they’re down. Say’s they’ll be here in a few.” 

She tucks her phone back into her packet and then pulls out the other tab, “Alright so you’re gonna place it on your tongue and let it dissolve, it’ll hit you anywhere between a half hour to at most two hours after you take it.” 

I stare at the square in my hand, clenching my jaw nervously. 

“And then what happens.” 

Ariana places one onto her tongue and gestures for me to do the same.

“And then we just enjoy the ride.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I honestly randomly started this story. I had like 10 different story ideas and then impulsively started this one. I'm not sure if it's going to be any good, but hey lets keep our fingers crossed. Love you!


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